Kristabella: Full of Snark Since 1977

Posted By Kristabella on November 20, 2006

I’m back from Arizona. And none too pleased about it. For one, it was 85 and sunny there. And two, it’s cold here. And I have to come back to work. At a place that me no likey. Oh well. Such is life.

So the Valley of the Sun trip was awesome! I really haven’t been back there in some time, at least where I wasn’t working or doing bridesmaidy stuff. So it was nice to seriously go and hang out and hit all my old hot spots and take in some football games. And it was really awesome to hang out with my AZpeeps. I miss you guys!

I could seriously do like a post for each day I was there, but I don’t think it would be as funny as it is to me. But I think I’m funny. And I’m always right! So there! And use a lot of exclamation!! points!!! (!!!!)

I would just like to point out some highlights from my three-day mini-break. (That’s what they call it in England. At least in MY Britain, according to Bridget Jones.)

• They have these painted rocking chairs in Midway airport. It’s kind of a cool idea. But when you see Joe Businessman (that was his name. Totally. I got his business card. He works for XYZCompany in Anytown, USA) going to town on his laptop on a rocking chair, it’s just weird. Should have taken a photo. Grandma and Grandpa Smalltown really enjoyed them, though.
• You can get cocktails to GO at Midway. To Go! Like, take your beer to the gate. This becomes essential when you’re flying fucking Southwest and have to get in line or get stuck between Mr. & Mrs. McSmellypants (I’m on a roll, kids!) And me? I took full advantage of this. And also felt like I was breakin’ the law, breakin’ the law. But wasn’t!
• I of course forgot my sunglasses. Wasn’t sunny in dreary Chicagoland. And I even wrote a note. And we all know my sagas with my sunglasses. But we stopped off at the Fiesta Mall kiosk in Mesa (a nice place-a) for some shades. This is one of those knock-off thingys, like 2 of $15. So I’m now sporting 2 pair of Dolce & Gabbana sunglasses bitches! For $15! Cha-ching!
• Fiesta Mall’s speed limit is 17. Seriously. 17. That’s what the sign says. Did someone do a study that you can’t do any bodily damage when you run into someone at 17 MPH? How do you conduct that study? Pay a bunch of poor, drunk ASU students to stand in a parking lot and wait for a moving vehicle to hit them? Actually, that’s probably so what they do. And they give them $20. And the ASU students are all “SCORE! Filibertos for a month!” (Yum…..Filiberto’s)
• Noticed on the side of the road on 32nd St. was a man, trying to earn a living selling huge area rugs. But these aren’t any normal area rugs. There was a wide array. There was a classy skanky Oriental rug (can we still say Oriental, or did I just go all 83-year old man on your ass?) And then there was a Scarface rug (like the movie poster) and the piece de resistance? A Tupac rug! Thug or Die, bitches. I bet my cats would piss on it. They are so Biggie and East Coast rap fans.
• So Arizona State University, at least the campus, looks nothing like it did when I went there. And I mean, it’s only been 7 years since I left. (Wow. Has it been that long? Damn I’m old) But they are now the largest University in the US (maybe the world…..Sharm?) so they need more space. So they have all these new dorms and buildings and are constructing up the whole campus. It’s just weird because it doesn’t feel like my school anymore.
• And ASU is now Laguna Beach East. We passed some “students” coming from the pool (hee…..we so did that too so we were tan at Xmas) and I swore it was LC and Kristin or Tessa or Alex M. But if it was that skank Kyndra, I would have jumped out and beat her ass DOWN! And when did 12-year olds start attending college. Because that’s how old they look.
• Saturday afternoon we spent in a bar (shocker!) watching college football. And eating. Thankfully Ohio State won. Not that I like them. But the Phins Phan does. And we wanted him to win, and not TJ. (Very logical reasoning) And Fitz went to Michigan. And I hate that douche of a tool box.
• Saturday night we were lucky horribly unlucky to sit through the ASU/UCLA game. ASU is scared of the end zone. No shit. They were on the three-yard line at least twice and? Scored 4 field goals. Thank GOD we stopped at the Circle K to pick up contraband bottles of liquor beforehand. I swear, it’s a good thing I worked every game in college otherwise I’d be a drunk. I mean, more of a drunk than I am now.
• We had a funny section. There were a bunch of guys, including the guy wearing the “Ann Arbor is a Whore” shirt. (from where our title comes) He and his buddies are apparently from Chicago. They were on my flight last night. We totally made eye contact and did the “damn you look familiar, but from where” look.
• The dude in front of us didn’t know how to properly do the Sun Devil pitchfork hand sign. So I corrected him. Naturally. He instructed me that he knew how to do it. He went to ASU. No shit sherlock. So did I. And you’re doing it wrong.
• There was an epidemic in our section too……thongs! On display! Everywhere! And I don’t mean flip flops. For the love of Pete ladies! Go commando if you have to!

• What’s with the jingling of the keys at college fotball games? I mean the first I heard of it was in that Danity Kane song. You know, jingle them keys, go and jingle them keys. Put ’em up real high make sure e’rybody sees. But I still don’t get it. Is that supposed to be loud? We should stick to tortillas.
• I’m going to start a website – Koet Koetter.com. Get it? Well, probably only if you know who Dirk Koetter is. And if you don’t, you’re lucky. He makes you scared of the end zone. Or maybe I’ll start a HireLouHoltz.com. Yeah! Love Sweet Lou!
• Sunday I went to the new University of Phoenix Stadium (it’s where the Cardinals play) That place is AWESOME! Every one should go. My guy hooked me up with some pre-game passes, so we got to go down on the field before the game. It was a sweet time.
• While on the sideline, I saw this guy. Who looks way better in person. The Jens wants to set me up with him. I would not object. Nor would I kick him out of bed.
• At the game, we sat next to him. I totally thought he looked familiar. I figured he worked for the Lions, since he had a credential on. So I asked him. Because, seriously, I full on thought he was like the Lions web guy. But then he told me he was an actor. And I so was this close to calling bullshit on him. And then he mentioned According to Jim and Jim Belushi. And no one jokes about Belushis.
• His friends were funny. The guy next to me wasn’t a big sports fan, to say the least. I think he played for the other team. And his cheering of the Lions alone was a comedy act. At one point he yelled “Just punch him in the face!” And then turned to us and said “it just doesn’t sound right when I say it.” They kept getting up to go to the bathroom, or smoke or get beers. So seriously, one would come back, and as soon as we sat down, another one would want out. It was so comical at one point the one dude was all, totally deadpan, “yes, I have ants in my pants.”
• The one friend had an accent (maybe Australian, maybe British.) and he got up and all I heard was “Arizona.” All Sharm heard was “shirt.” So we then proceeded to have a conversation about everything he could have said involving Arizona and shirt. Like “I came to Arizona and all I got was nacho cheese on my shirt.” Or “I’ve never been to Arizona, would you mind if I looked down your shirt?” And “The Lions are so bad I’m going to get an Arizona shirt.” Five minutes later, he came back in a Cardinals shirt.
• After the game, I took a photo of the new Pat Tillman statue. The thing seriously stands about 10 feet tall. Overheard uttered by some girl “It’s really life size?” The best part was that she said it while some dude was taking a photo next to it. And came up to his chest. Clearly that guy was a midget.
• Driving to the airport last night, I passed the In-N-Out that they put in AFTER we graduated. If  I could have driven off the 202 into the parking lot, I would have. As it was, I crossed 4 lanes of traffic to make the exit. It’s In-N-Out people! And apparently, they have a song. That’s what it’s all about.

We miss you Tilly!

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Posted By Kristabella on November 14, 2006

No, this post isn’t about Nelly. But man do I love me some Nelly. It’s gettin’ hot in herre. (That song will always remind me of Osaka, Japan. Why, you ask? Because I was travelling with the 49ers and like all the players and little ole me ended up at some club and they were all dancing, and um, disrobing, when this song came on. (DJ Skribble from MTV was spinning the tunes) It. Was. AWESOME!)

Man, I really have no attention span. So anyway, about a month ago, my friend Sus and I took a road trip down to The Lou. The Seahawks were playing the Rams and one of my good friends works for the Seahawks (although if he keeps making comments about the shocker on here, we won’t be such good friends. Which will severely upset Mom and Gram, who both think we’re meant to be.)

Sorry Mom and Gram. Not gonna happen.

So we drove down on Friday evening to spend the weekend. Although, we didn’t actually stay for the game. Sus had a Christening or something on Sunday afternoon, so we left early. Which was fine by me, because I needed the rest to recover from the previous two days.

I’ve actually never really been to STL. I went down last year for the Rams/Seahawks game, but came down Saturday and we only made it to Fridays. Rich LOVES Fridays. And man, they make stiff drinks.

So this year, I really wanted to go and do the few touristy things that dump of a city has to offer. Few things to me is the Arch and the Budweiser Brewery. (Which, I tried EVERY year to convince my mom we should do on our drive down to AZ. But I got denied every time. And she wonders why she has no walnut bowls. Hrmpff!)

(Totally off topic, but ugliness is not just limited to Wisconsin. St. Louis fares no better. Mullets EVERYWHERE!)

Friday night we got in about 11 and then walked all over the place because I was damn positive we were going to the right way to get to The Landing. We weren’t. When we saw the White Castle, we knew we were heading in the wrong direction. And by this time, Rich was about 8 drinks ahead of us and we were NOT drunk, and therefore cranky. This did not make for a fun situation.

FINALLY we made it to The Landing, which kind of blows and my St. Louis friend totally told me that. Oh well. It was close. We ended up at Sundecker’s. Which was quite an interesting place. Since we were way behind the rest of St. Louis, I found it entertaining. There were these two chicks, clearly anorexic. I mean, one false move, one slip on aBud Light puddle on the floor and we were going to have a bone jutting out of the skin. Which I did not need to see.

But Nicole Richie and her friend were clearly shit-faced (and seriously? what does it take? one drink?) and just dancing up a storm. And I use the term “dancing” loosely. But the best part was that they were trying to draw attention from the “men” by bumping and grinding with each other. Trying, being the operative word here. Oh, and there was a pole in the middle of the room. They attempted to use this, but it was neither provocative nor sexy. Nor something I should ever see again. Ever. But they got a lot of attention. Probably not the kind they were looking for.

This Sundecker’s place is great though. For $4.50, they give you this like 16-ounce rum and coke. In a take home cup! After three of these, I was good. To. Go.

Lots of Coke & Rum in this cup!

Which one of us had the most Coke & Rums? Hmmm, Rich?

The next morning, though? Not so good. Too much rum. Too little time. And I wasn’t feeling well. We went to eat, which usually helps. But I ate too much. And then drank a bottle of water. Filled me up good. Which, hungover and queasy is just asking for trouble of the vomitous kind.

So we head to the arch and get in line. My nausea is going in waves, but I’m doing OK. For the most part. Until it is our turn. (Of course. Although, better now than in the 5-man pod) We are seriously the next to go in and it hit me. I got all hot and weak and I swear I turned white or green and so was going to pass out in line or puke on the turnstile guy.

So we jump out. Because, if I can’t stand in line, how the hell am I going to make it up in one of those enclosed pods? (Which, by the way, totally Mork & Mindy. Na Noo, Na Noo)

Finally, after some time (most spent in the bathroom) we get back in line. This is when I finally decide sitting down is good. It’s the only way I’m going to get up in this damn arch. Kids can make it without sitting. Hell, you can’t bring strollers in. Not me. So as much as I can, I sit. I sit in line. Once we get in the museum. In line again at the pod. In the pod. And I’m good. I can proudly say I did not puke on any unsuspecting tourists. But someone else did. There was a “hazardous spill” up at the top of the arch. Ewwww…….

And with the views, I can see how you could lose it. Plus you’re in that little area, and it’s all like slanty and shit, like you are in some sort of archway or something. And there’s no air. Just tiny little windows. That remind you how far up you really are. And how a rickety pod thing was the only thing that got you up there in the first place. And they built it like in the 60s or something. So it’s all old and shit. I’m getting a little queasy thinking about it now.

But the views are worth it.

Needless to say, after all this, I still haven’t been to the Budweiser brewery. And frankly, I don’t even really like Budweiser that much anyway.

But after a nap and a decent dinner that night, I was back up to about 75%. I could drink. But   s   l    o   w   l    y. Which didn’t please Rich in the very least. But I rallied. Which was more than Sus could say. So we spent some time at Fridays. AGAIN. And then on to the Westin bar. Where? We saw Tom Glavine. Who was totally checking me out. Or maybe he was looking at Rich. We really couldn’t decide.

But overall, it wasn’t such a bad trip. But I doubt I’ll be heading there any time soon. Go Cubs!

It was the first game of the NLCS and they dyed the fountain red. Which is kinda cool. Kinda.

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Posted By Kristabella on November 13, 2006

Two Saturdays ago I attended a friend’s wedding up in Wisconsin. Just outside Milwaukee. And I think I’ve mentioned how I feel about Cheeseheads (= bad). Actually, I don’t have any animosity towards them. Well, yeah, maybe when I see someone driving like an idiot and I notice the Wisconsin plates I may whisper softly yell excitedly “It figures! Cheesehead!”

And you know, they have a nickname for us. They call us FIBs. Fucking Illinois Bastards. And that, is way more harsh than embracing their exceedingly good cheese making abilities.

(And on a side note, I’ve heard that our neighbors to the East, Indiana, like to refer to us in the same manner. And what did we ever do to you? Huh? I mean, we even let you idiot, white trash Northwest Indiana residents CLAIM you’re from Chicago. This from the state that lets Notre Dame have a home. Suck it Hoosiers!)

Where was I? Oh, right, the wedding. So it was a good time. It was a reception for a friend from ASU who actually did the destination wedding and had the big ol’ party back home. In Wisconsin. Should have stayed in Florida.

So the wedding. It was fun. Our table was the best by far. Random groups coming together. There was a guy who was a training intern for the Niners back a few years ago, who knew the bride from Texas. There was a guy from Texas who was originally from the Bay Area and went to high school with Paraag Marathe. And for those of us who know him, this guy confirmed it. He said “I have two words to describe Paraag. Douche. Bag.” Your honor, I rest my case.

(Side story, I was asking my friend Smooth about Indian food a few months back because I was going to an Indian place for the first time for a book club meeting. (Yes, I’m in a book club. And no, I’m not a nerd. We sit and drink and gossip. So THERE!) And I asked Smooth if Indian food was any good and he said “Let me break it down for you this way. Paraag is Indian. Therefore Indian food sucks ass.” Still one of the funniest things he’s ever said. And that’s saying a lot! AWESOME!)

Back to the wedding. My friends and I noticed something interesting about Wisconsin. And this is something I noticed on my earlier trips up to the Dairy Land (see, I can be nice.) People generally in Wisconsin are not good looking. (OK, maybe I can’t) And now, I’m no supermodel, even with my towering height. But seriously, a good majority of the citizens are ugly. (No offense to the bride and groom and the handful of people I know that are beautiful that live up there. I’m just saying a majority) And as BFF Julie pointed out “They aren’t just ugly, they’re fugly!”

It started with the ALL woman staff at the hall who were dressed a little like St. Pauli Girls. But nowhere near as hot. Or as well-endowed. And these women, were bruisers. They were lugging chairs and tables around like it was nothing. Do NOT get in their way when they are clearing the dance floor. Yikes!

And then there’s the wardrobe. The younger people were dressed fine. They were dressed as if they were coming to a WED-DING! When we walked in, I was sure to be way overdressed. People were wearing jeans! JEANS! To a WED-DING! And there was a wide array of things you’d wear hunting, or out to dinner or to work or to the titty bar down the street. Bottom line? Very casual. And the sequins! In Wisconsin sequins = fancy! And more sequins = fancier! For the love of the sweatshop worker that had to sew those on! To ugly clothes!

And there was your fair share of floods. (What is it with certain Midwestern towns and the people all wearing floods – St. Louis, Milwaukee) And the stylish Mormon look of the DJ, rocking that white short-sleeved shirt! With the tie, don’t forget the tie. This is a wedding after all. Sleeves? Who in the h-e-double-hockey-sticks needs sleeves? Not Mormons! (Hi The Jens!)

Play that funky music, white boy!

Then, there was our favorite. Seeing as it’s Milwaukee in November, it’s chilly. You should probably be wearing hose or tights. (Except me, because, well, I’m not 50) (Did I actually just say hose? Damn, I AM 50)  But this older woman was. Black nylons with a black dress. Not bad right? Nope. She was wearing, wait for it, wait for it…………SILVER. OPEN TOED. SHOES!! I cannot explain to you how horrible this looked. You should be able to imagine the HORROR!

And to top it all off, was the creepy guy. Who was neither ugly, or fugly. He was creepugly. (New word alert! Use it. Love it. Live it) And I have a photo of him, but I’m thinking I can’t really put it up here since I don’t have like permission or anything. Anyway, Creepugly was wearing brown hiking boots (I’m starting at the bottom because it so gets better as we go up.) And then he was wearing jeans (see above how I feel about that) On top, it was a T-shirt. With a guitar on it. A GUITAR. On top of that was a button down striped shirt, open enough to SEE the guitar shirt. And then on top of that, a blazer. And really, it wasn’t the outfit. This dude was not pretty. Someone went to town on him with the ugly stick. But he seemed not to care and rocked out (air guitaring on his t-shirt. Oh wait, that was us. Mocking it. A LOT) to all the classic hair bands who you frequently hear at weddings. (i.e. Poison, Def Leppard, etc.)

And then there was the one black guy who had to witness a lot of BAD white-people dancing. Wait, what am I saying? All white-people dancing is bad. Well, except me and my one kick ass move that I have. (I should really learn a new move, but I don’t like change. I stick with what works. And by works, I mean the only move I’m capable of without clapping or snapping and really calling attention to my Caucasian ass)

But it was a lot of fun and that 5 AM wake-up call the next morning to get my ass on a plane to Orlando came all too soon. But it was good to see Julie and Joey C. I’d post a cute photo of us, but Joey’s like in the witness relocation program or something. Oh, and his name isn’t Joey. It’s Caesar. Sorry Joey Caesar. (Dammit!)

So I’ll just show some sexy Sun Devil biatches instead!

Sun Devils = Seeeexy Ladies

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Posted By Kristabella on November 12, 2006

When I thought of working Deem into a title, it made me giggle. Still does. The other option was no reDEEMing qualities.

So I’m back in Chicago. And it is REALLY good to be back. I swear, it feels like my internal clock is all screwed up, and it’s not from the one-hour time difference between here and Orlando. This trip was just like Groundhog’s Day. (Side note, my new Canuck friend shoots groundhogs) (And then I asked him if he notices their shadows before he shoots.) Every day really ran together and I still am not sure what day it is. Good thing football = Sunday, otherwise I might not show up for work tomorrow. Not that I want to.

The trip was good, though. The meeting was a success. Everyone involved got a lot out of it, so it was worth the $200,000+ we spent on the meeting. And I got to meet some, um, interesting people. Meetings like this make me actually like my job. But I know tomorrow, it’s not going to be as fun. I like the people I work with, I just wish I had things to do, besides stuff binders and make copies. Oh, and mail stuff. I’m AWESOME at that.

I was doing some thinking on the plane ride home. (Actually, I pretty much passed out and may have drooled on myself) DD and another guy headed out after dinner on Wenesday night for some more drinking. I ran into them as I was heading in for the night. EARLY. And I was a little pissed that they didn’t invite me over. Why was I pissed? I mean, I felt like dogshit and tried ALL night to rally, but my second wind never came. And on top of it, I was so starting to get sick and needed the rest. (hindsight = good idea) I think part of me is a three-year old kid. (not news) Because I HATE to miss out on anything. I think that’s why I’m always one of the last ones out. I’m afraid I’m going to miss something. Who fucking cares? What the hell am I going to miss? Guys offering to lick my leg? No, just a bunch of drunks drinking. A lot.

I did have more fun on this trip than I thought I would and got to hang out with the Cubs groundskeeper, who is a big fan of the KJ. I have an open invitation (as long as there are blue skies) to call him on game days and get on the field, no matter how drunk I am. (And he’s seen me pretty sloshed) And he pushed my boss to invite me to the groundskeepers symposium in San Antonio in January. And it was FUN last year.

So no more partying.

Until I leave Thursday night for Arizona!

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Posted By Kristabella on November 8, 2006

Thank God that I am only here one more day. I am seriously way too old to be drinking like this every night! And man, can these boys drinks!

I’m seriously one of maybe 5 women here. And you’d be pretty sure that most of the guys from this new company we bought had never seen a women before in their lives. I’ve already been hit on by so many creepy men, I should be good for years.

It all started Monday night when all these new franchisees came into town. And the drinking. LOTS of drinking. Drink me under the table, that’s for sure. But I try my best to keep up. I am NOT a quitter!

So this company is an aeration company. I’ll spare you all the juicy boring details. Let’s just say these guys work outside all day and very much have a contractor mentality. And by no means is my company a bunch of stuffy suity types. I mean there are a few, but we’re a fun group.

These new guys are really rough around the edges. Which will change soon since my company spent way too much money on this acquisition to be having these guys getting kicked off the field at Fenway Park on a job.

ANYway…these guys sure took a liking to ol’ KJ. They wanted to ride the K Train. Real bad. The one, who made me almost vomit, was this old, dirty man. With a daughter my age. He was all up in my personal space. And DD, standing right next to me, didn’t even attempt to save me. He found it way to entertaining. (Asshole!)

So we started talking about my tattoo, as usually happens when I’m drunk. It’s either my tat or my tits. (I hate that word, but it worked here.) So this Canada dude (AKA the Canuck), starts to run his hands up and down my legs NUMEROUS times, letting me know how smooth they were. This, I didn’t mind too much. He’s pretty cute and single. And talks funny, eh?

But then later in the night, creepy old dude yells out to me on my way to the bathroom “Hey KJ, can I lick your leg?”

Seriously.

(Insert long pause)

Now, I’ve worked with men and in sports for my entire adult life. I’m used to this. Sadly, I probably let a lot slide because I’ve got thick skin about it. So it takes a lot to get me uncomfortable. That? Totally did. So I mentioned it to one of the VPs and he’s going to give him a talking to. And VP protected me last night in the bar when the dirty, old man wanted to check out the tat. He was a good buffer.

Last night, all our distributors came in and it was SOME party. So we hung out in the bar until the wee hours of the morning.

But I think I’m starting to get sick again, so tonight should bring my ass into bed at 10. But who are we kidding? I never turn down free booze!

And the best part (and by best, I mean sucky) of this here trip. Remember all this I went on and on about? They fucking broke. This morning. The day of our demos. Outside. In the sun. All morning.

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