Tom Cruise found me at work

I was doing internet research at work today and I do, truly, mean work-related research.  Not the kind of "research" that involves looking at funny You-Tube videos or checking out the latest products on Amazon.  

I was searching for photos of hazardous materials containment for mobile refuelers.  The photos came up, and I scrolled through the results...

spill containment... spill containment... spill containment... Tom Cruise...spill containment...

WAIT... what?  Tom Cruise?  It doesn't really matter if you know what "spill containment berms" are, it's still pretty obvious that they are not a famous actor.  No clue why Mr. Cruise came up in my search.  But he did: See the search results

I get cranky when I need sleep

Last night, I couldn't sleep.

I don't know why - I just couldn't.  I lay in the hotel bed, staring wide-eyed at the ceiling, listening to the frogs and my husband's soft snoring.  And I wasn't just not tired, I was absolutely wired.

So I got my iPod, turned it to my "slow music" playlist, and hoped to lull myself into sleep with a soft musical selection.   After what felt like hours (but was probably only an hour or so) I was finally almost asleep.

And then my husband decided to move around in his sleep.  I was wide awake again.

Irritated, I shimmy out of our double bed and head over to the other double bed in the room. I was so pissed that I was not asleep!  So by golly, I was headed over to the other bed to sleep by myself, where no one could wake me up from almost-slumber.  Chris's suitcase, which happened to be sitting on the bed, made its way quickly and loudly to the floor of the hotel room.

"What are you doing?" asked my blurry-voiced husband, half-awake.

"I. CAN'T. SLEEP.  And I want to be asleep and I was just about asleep and then YOU woke me up with your moving around and crap." I stage-whisper, my annyoance seeping through every word.

"Well," he says, "I was asleep."

"Hmph."

"Do you want another pillow?  Would that help?"

I paused... He did have the good pillow.

"Yes, please."  I reply, my voice syrupy-sweet.  He throws me a pillow.

"Hmph."

"NOW what?!" he asks, in exasperation.

"That's not the good pillow."

More grumbling, but I got the good pillow.  I crawled into the other bed, snuggled up against the one soft fluffy pillow in the room...

And I slept like a baby.

The Hat! The Hat! The Hat is on Fire!

In order to properly understand the reference here, you must be familiar with both a) the 2004 movie Eurotrip and b) the Bloodhound Gang's 1996 remake to "The Roof is on Fire," in which the lyrics read, "the roof! the roof! the roof is on fire!"

My roommate and I watched the movie Eurotrip shortly after it came out to video.  For some reason that is unknown to me now, we thought that scene where the guy's hat was on fire and he mistook his friend's warning for a fiesty rendition of "The Roof is on Fire" was the funniest thing EVER.  It was a running joke between us for well over a year, and each time it brought us to tears, we laughed so hard.  Again, I don't know why.  It's not really that funny.

Now on to what I was really going to say.

Chris and I flew into Phoenix this evening, and after a short ride home from the airport, arrived at the house.  The first thing I noticed was that our house smelled... well, kind of odd.  Specifically, it smelled like new tires.  Yeah, I know.  Weird.  So I lit a couple of scented candles to dispel the mysterious odor.

Chris and I proceeded to flop on the couch, turn on the television, and relax after a long day of work and travel.  This went on for about twenty minutes, until...

*sniff* *sniff* "Um, Chris?  Do you smell something burning?" I ask.  He didn't.  Perplexed, I check on the candles, which all seem to be doing okay.  I blow one of them out, thinking maybe the wick was running low and causing a little smoke.  A few minutes go by.  The burning smell returns.  Even Chris can smell it this time.  But I chalk it up to the lingering smoke from the candle I had just snuffed, and we settle back into our television show.

The cat jumps up on the couch to snuggle up with us.  I can see she's got a funky bit on her tail, but I figure she just got in to something.  Then I notice that "burnt" smell has returned.  A few seconds go by, and something clicks.  I look at the cat's tail a little closer.

Oh. My. God.  The burning smell was coming from the cat.  That funky bit on her tail?  Charred fur.  The cat has burned her tail on the candle.  A large patch of fur on her tail was signed and/or gone.  Which explained the mysterious burning smell.  The best part?  It didn't burn enough to actually get to the flesh, so SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW.  She snuggled up with us, purring away, completely oblivious to the fact that she had been waving her tail too close to the candle and burnt down her tail fur.

The cat! the cat! the cat is on fire!

Willie Nelson, Kid Rock, and the Mayor

A few weekends ago, The Husband and I went to an outdoor country music festival known as “Country Thunder” located in the nearby town of Florence, AZ. The headliners for the night were Willie Nelson and Kid Rock. We did the usual giant-outdoor-music-festival activities, which included:

• Browsing the sales booths with the trashy t-shirts
• Spending 20 minutes trying to guess how many food/drinks you will eat/drink so you don’t have leftover food and beverage “tickets” and yet you don’t have to stand in line again
• Spending an insane amount of money on “tickets” for food and beverages
• Playing the beanbag toss and winning a free radio station t-shirt (if you’re me)
• Playing the beanbag toss and not winning (if you’re the husband)
• Getting your picture taken by one of the program sponsors
• Stuffing your face with food and drinks so that you don’t waste any of those no-cash-value tickets
• People-watching
• Oh, yeah, and maybe also listening to some country music artists singing

At the end of the night, as we were leaving the Kid Rock concert, we left the gate behind a sweet older lady who looked like she should be baking cookies or knitting, not attending a Kid Rock concert until 11pm on a Saturday.

“Hey, look at that kick-ass grandma in front of us!” one of my friends said. “That’s so cool she went to Kid Rock. I’ve got to get my picture with her!”

“Excuse me,” we said, “would you mind taking a picture with us?”

“Oh hello,” she said, smiling, “I’m the Mayor of Florence!”

So it turns out we got our photo taken with the Mayor.

But no story is complete without some pictures. I mentioned earlier that the group of us got our photo taken by one of the program sponsors, Cricket Wireless. While I was online searching for my picture, I browsed through some of the other yahoos that had their picture taken. I’ve picked some of the winners and posted them here. Enjoy.


Um, NO. No, thanks.



Three guesses (and the first two don’t count) on which headliner this guy came to see.




Hey look! It’s Kid Rock and Pam Anderson… oh, wait, nevermind.



Excuse me, sir? I believe you may be accidentally wearing your girlfriend’s cast.



Only slightly more fantastic than if he had been wearing one of those t-shirt tuxedos.



These fine ladies are demonstrating the versitilty of the Jack Daniel’s bandana. Now they just need one more lady in need of a miniskirt, and they’d have a complete set.



Their parents don’t let them out of the house much.

So if she’s a “playboy bunny” then he’s a… what is that thing… an armadillo?

I really have no explanation for this one.

This lady’s outfit just screams “class.” Or, something like that.

In which Southwest Airlines says I have a problem

I think that Southwest Airlines has secretly “cut me off” from partaking in any alcoholic beverages on their flights. No, really, it’s a conspiracy and here’s why.

Due to my temporary commute between Phoenix and San Diego, I have been flying the friendly skies twice a week. PHX-SAN on Monday morning, SAN-PHX on Friday evening. The husband and I have become big fans of Southwest’s “Business Select.” Had you asked me what I thought of Business Select six months ago, and I would have told you it was a $15 waste of money. I mean, who needs a free drink coupon, right?

But there are several perks that make that $15 worth every penny, the first of which is: priority security lines.  As Business select, you get to run through what is essentially the first-class or employee security line, which is usually very short. The second perk I like? Priority boarding. Now, I used to be one of those people who thought, a seat is a seat, right? Especially on a short flight – I laughed at those fools who would stand in line for an hour at the gate just to have a good seat on an hour and a half flight. I mean, really.
Then something happened to change my mind.

Whenever I had a flight with an assigned seat (e.g. any airline other than Southwest), I never hurried to the gate. The bottom line was that I was sitting in the same seat no matter when I boarded the airplane, so why spend more time in a stuffy metal tube than necessary? Until one Christmas when I had a flight to my parent’s house in Michigan. I was checked in plenty early and I even had an assigned seat. In fact, the seat number was written on my boarding pass. We were shuffling up to the gate where the stewardess was taking tickets when suddenly she stopped the person in line in front of me.

“I’m sorry ma’am, but this flight is full. I can’t let you board.”

Huh?

With no warning whatsoever, they simply just stopped letting people on the plane. The flight was overweight and regardless of the fact that myself, the lady in front of me, and the ten people behind me had assigned seats, we were not getting on that flight. To make a long story short, there was no other flight out that day, or the next, or any day until after Christmas. There were no rental cars until the next morning and the airline couldn’t even secure us a bus. The whole time I was kicking myself, because had I just gotten in that line sooner and actually boarded with my boarding group, I would have been happily en route to my destination instead of stranded at the airport right before Christmas.

Needless to say, ever since then I am much more prudent about boarding the airplane. I don’t worry so much on the PHX-LAX or PHX-SAN or PHX-LAS flights, because they’re a dime a dozen and getting on another flight is usually relatively simple, but there’s another problem on those flights for which priority boarding is very useful. And that is the overhead bin space. Nobody wants to check their luggage these days, even on airlines like Southwest that don’t charge for it. So if you’re on a full flight, and you’re in the last two-thirds of the people boarding, chances are you’ll have to check your luggage and wait for it at baggage claim.

But back to what started this whole ordeal. The third perk of Business Select: drink coupons for one free alcoholic beverage (plain old sodas and water are still free). To be honest, I probably have more drink coupons than I can use. The flight is short enough that I barely have time to enjoy my beer before it’s seatback up and tray tables stowed for landing. And also, I can’t use them on those Monday flights. Work day, and all. However, ever since last Monday, Southwest has been mysteriously neglecting to give me my “free beverage” coupon.

Last Monday, I got to the airport and went to the kiosk by the gate to print my boarding pass. It printed my boarding pass (1 of 2) and then my drink coupon (2 of 2)… but my drink coupon got jammed in the machine. I looked around. I waited a few seconds. I watched the screen, and rolled my eyes in disgust when it flashed onto a plain display that read “Out of Order. Please use next kiosk.”

Great. I reach my hand into the kiosk… if I stretched, I could just grab the tip of the paper. After a lot of fumbling and almost giving up twice, I managed to grab on to the paper and pull.. riip. It tore out right at the perforation, which meant the part of the paper that actually serves as the coupon was still stuck in the machine.

Friday, I print out my boarding pass at the office. I swing by the printer and grab the papers on my way out the door. Halfway to the airport, I realize it has only printed out the boarding pass. No drink coupon. This is the second time in a row!

And then there was this morning. As I approached the kiosk, I noticed it was the same kiosk that had done me wrong the week before. I eyed it warily. It blinked back with it’s helpful “check in here” sign. I checked in, it printed my boarding pass, and it printed my drink coupon… then stopped. It was Déjà vu – my drink coupon was stuck in the kiosk in exactly the same manner as the Monday before. The screen switched over to its out-of-order “Please use next kiosk” screen.

Seriously? Am I cut off or what?

EDIT: The husband got a letter in the mail from Southwest Airlines today, ironically.  They were awarding him 4 free drink coupons as an appreciation for his many flights.  Of course, this meant he had to walk over to me and wave the envelope in my face, while saying the grownup equivalent of "Nah-nah-nah." 

Pbbft.

I'm a Space Alien and you need to let me in the cockpit

So imagine that you're flying back to California after a nice visit with your family in Helena.  You're headed back with another friend of yours, nickname "Slappy" (and for once, I did NOT make this nickname up).  The flight takes off and you close your eyes for a little nappy-nappy time.

The next thing you know, you wake up and the airplane has made an emergency landing in Idaho Falls and your friend is in handcuffs for trying to gain access to the cockpit by claiming he is a space alien.

Yes, I said space alien.

Don't believe me?  Google "Space alien aircraft" and see what pops up.

I was actually going to write this post yesterday, but it hadn't filtered into the news outlets yet.  It's much more fun when I can link to the news article and then tell you the caveat to this whole story:

I know this guy.  And his friend.  This is why I can tell you that his nickname is Slappy and he's always been a little crazy but never in a million years did we think he would try and take over an aircraft by claiming to be an alien from outer space.'

Guess it shows what we knew, huh?

...Wisconsin?

Last week my husband and I were afforded the opportunity to go see the San Diego Padres play the Milwaukee Brewers, courtesy of a client.  We got to sit in the sky box and watch the game while munching on appetizers and reclining on a leater sofa.  Although it was a work thing, so we did have to talk about work stuff now and then with the client.

All in all, it was a pretty entertaining game.  And then there was the ride home.

Because of the scarcity of parking downtown, where the stadium is, a group of us from the office carpooled to the game.  One of those people happened to be a Really Important Person who was in town from our corporate office in Kansas City.  Like, my boss's boss's boss kind of person.  You know, the president of our whole company.

It turns out, the Padres had a pretty good game and soundly trounced the Brewers.  In the car ride back, I heard the boss's boss's boss ask one of my co-workers,

"Where is Milwaukee at?"

I thought about this question for a minute.  It occured to me that there was NO WAY he was actully asking what it sounded like he was asking.  I started to open my mouth to answer - and then thought better of it.  I closed my mouth.  The question wasn't being asked of me, after all. And I do have a history of making stupid comments before I think them through.

However, he then asked the question two more times.

"Do you know where Milkaukee is at?"

I couldn't help myself.  I just couldn't.  I mean, surely my boss's boss's boss, being the Really Important Person that he was in our company, knew where Milwaukee was at.  But he had asked the question three times and the poor man did not have an answer yet!  I had to at least tell him something.  Since I wasn't quite sure it was really the answer he was looking for, it came out more like a question:

"Wisconsin?"

He looked at me for a second, then said, deadpan, "Yeah, Krista I don't get out of Missourah much."

All I have to say is that THANK GOD my boss's boss's boss has a sense of humor.  He was, obviously, not asking in which state was the city of Milwaukee.  He simply wanted to know where they ranked in the baseball standings, so he could judge the weight of the Padre's sound victory at the game.

I believe everyone in that car was laughing at me for a full 10 minutes.  At least the boss's boss's boss was laughing as well.