"All normal people love meat. If I went to a barbeque and there was no meat, I would say 'Yo Goober! Where's the meat!?'. I'm trying to impress people here, Lisa. You don't win friends with salad."

The more I think about it, the more I appreciate the equator.

Well, Happy New Year, everyone. Just think. Tomorrow you will be writing -04 on everything instead of -03. It's odd b/c it doesn't seem at all strange to me that tomorrow will be 2004. Usually it's seems like a huge deal. "Oh my gosh! Can you believe it's 1995?" [For some reason I remember the 1995 New Year pretty well. Who knows why.] But then I lived through the mother of all New Years. Y2K, baby. I mean, not only was it the turn of the century (and millions of people had begun storing up for.... whatever,) but it was a new millennium. We went from having to change the last two digits of our date, to changing the last FOUR digits. After living through that, it's amazing I even celebrate New Years.

Well, I'm going to Tyler this weekend, so I guess this is it until next Monday. All of us here at Hello Please, by which I mean myself, wish you and yours a very safe and pleasant New Year, and may all your New Year resolutions be attainable.

Amy's New Year Resolutions:

1. Come back to College Station
2. Write more blogs
3. Write more interesting blogs.
4. Write Thank You notes for my wedding presents (d'oh!)
5. Have a child [just kidding, Jeremy. Or am I?]

P.S. If you only see one film the rest of your life it should be "Jungle to Jungle". But if you see two, then the second one should be "Return of the King."

"Pffffffffffffffffffff...."

All right, Jeremy. You're through with finals. You're no longer excused from blogging. I need something to read. I want something to read. I need something to REEEEEAAD! (Vague Soul Asylum reference. I hope you can all appreciate that.)

Smootwootfus.

Back in the day (when all we had were wood-burning cats), my friend Sara had put some baby breath on her rearview mirror, and we decided that would make a good country song. The song would go a little something like this: "Baby breath, on my rearview mirr-or." Sometime, if you're curious, and I don' t know why you would be... ask me to sing a bar to you. It will have to be short, as that's the only part of the song we came up with. [Dang, I ended that last sentence with a preposition. Mrs. Crabbe would be so disappointed.] Ooh! Another thing that reminds me of Sara: one time we were at my house and we saw this pill box (you know the ones that have a different slot for each day of the week: SMTWTFS........Anyhow, I saw it and I read it as Smootwootfus. It's really quite fun. I think we should all refer to our weeks as "Smootwootfus's." I guess if it were plural we could say "Smoothwootfi." Observe.

"Man, this has been the LONGEST smootwootfus ever. "

or

"Ooh, only two smootwootfi till 2004!"

You may be asking yourself "why would we use such a long word in place of a word that is already very short?"

The answer: I don't know.

Well, it sure looks like "cho" to me, Professor.

Hello, everyone. Does my tan frighten you? Perhaps, it should. What you're looking at is the tan of the future, unless America changes it ways. When I look at a knockout babe like Dyan Cannon, and I see the ravages that ozone depletion has wrought on her leathery, flaking skin, I think, "My God, what have these fools done?" For those of my generation - for John Derek, for Bob Guccione - it may be too late. But who will speak for the Rob Lowes? For the Chad Lowes? For the Lorenzo Lamas'? Or the two Coreys? What kind of tan can they expect? Certainly not a healthy, golden tan. Not even a tawny bronze. The best they can hope for is a light cocoa. Think about that this Christmas.

You can't fire me, I quit!

Oh. No, I'm not quitting. Hermey is. Because he wants to be a dentist. A DENTIST????!!!

Ahem.

Criminetly, Trigger. It's supposed to rain tonight and it has gotten real dark real fast. I'ts actually pretty scary. It's only 4:30 but it looks like it's 6:00.

If you think I'm going to write anything interesting in this blog, you really couldn't be more wrong.

Oh man. It's raining hard out there now.

I had something interesting to tell you, but I like how lame this blog is turning out. Let's not spoil it. G'night!

Whatchoo talkin' about, Willis?

Have you guys seen The Tracy Morgan Show? On the show, Tracy Moran has two sons, and Jeremy pointed out that the oldest one is that kid from the Mrs. Baird's commercial. You know: "I love Mrs. Baird's.... bread." Yeah, so he was like the cutest kid. That commercial used to kill me. Well, now he's not the cutest. His little brother on the Tracy Morgan Show is. And you know, it made me feel kind of sad. In real life, kids have enough issues with being the cutest, and then growing out of it and having younger siblings who take that spotlight. For kids in show biz, the whole world thinks they're adorable, but then, of course, they grow out of it and they find a new kid to obsess about.

Take little "Rudy Huxtable" for example. Wasn't she the cutest?! Well, I thought she was until "Olivia" came along, beating out Rudy's cuteness by a landslide. So Rudy faded away from our memories as the cutest girl on the Cosby Show. Now we have "Olivia." Gosh, she was the CUTEST. Before recent years, we hadn't seen her since the early 90's. Now she has her "own" show, and, well, not to be mean but, she's not so cute anymore. Call me naive, but I thought she would be cute forever. But no. Another example would the Culkin kids [don't get me started!] Anyhow, the point is... I've forgotten my point. Something about how sad it is when kids grow out of being cute. You know who hasn't had to deal with that? Gary Coleman. He was cute in Different Strokes, and he's cute now.

Most disturbing rendition of O Holy Night: Mariah Carey (unless there is a Britany Spears version out there that I don't know about.)

Aggies, and their mothers who marry them.

As we were pulling out of the Black-Eye Pea, Jeremy and I saw a suburban with two A&M stickers on it: "An Aggie's Mom," and "An Aggie's Wife." Jeremy pointed out that they should also have a sticker that reads: "I married my son." Just thought that was pretty funny.

Anyhow....

On some Monday's, I have the great job of filling up the coke machine. Neat, huh? It's so much fun that it hurts. Well, today they decided to change it up, so they took out Vanilla Coke, and replaced it with lemonade and replaced Barq's Root Beer with Diet Dr. Pepper (blegh.) I'm actually glad we have lemonade now, but they got rid of Vanilla Coke instead of Sprite Remix? Whaaaa? Ugh. That's frustrating enough, but to replace Barq's with Diet Dr. Pepper? Now that's a shame. Diet Dr. Pepper is the most depressing drink there is because it give you a small glimpse of what Dr. Pepper should taste like, so the whole time you are drinking it you are just like "I WANT A DR. PEPPER!!" and you get all irate and start screaming at the people in your office. Conclusion: Diet D.P. = no good. I would like to say, however, that they at least got one thing right and allotted two slots to Dr. Pepper. Kudos, Hanover.

Friday I'm in love.

Ah, yes. The end of the week has finally come, my friends. "Praise the Lord, and pass the tax rebate." I don't really have anything to blog about. Just wanted to say "hi" and remind you that it's Friday. "Aaaaaaaaaah.... FREAK OUT!"

Let's just hope that my darling husband never comes to this.

Welcome Christmas, bring your cheer,
Cheer to all Who's far and near.
Chritmas day is in our grasp,
So long as we have hands to clasp.
Christmas day will always be,
Just as long as we have we.
Welcome Christmas, while we stand,
Heart to heart, and hand in hand.

Hip hop to the blog spot.

That was a quote from my sister. I saw her this weekend and I had said something about my blog, and she said "I hear blogspots are pretty popular these days." I kind of laughed and was like "oh, is that the word on the street?" She said "Heck yeah. I'm hip hop to the blog spot." Anyhow, I thought it was humorous and thought you might enjoy it to.

Dang. That holiday break just wasn't long enough. I had a good break though. We spent Thanksgiving with Jeremy's family. It was kind of strange for me b/c it was my first Thanksgiving away from my family. However, it was pretty sweet actually getting to be with Jeremy on a holiday. It makes me even more excited for Christmas b/c I get to share it with him. This will be our 6th Christmas as a "couple" and it's about time I spent Christmas morning with him.

After Thanksgiving we came home for the A&M game. Seeing as how my husband will read this blog, I will not recount any details of that game, except maybe that it was way cold. Yeah. That's it. So the next day I went with Andrea to First Monday. Yeah, I know that sounds like an old lady thing to do, but Andrea and I love Canton. It's tradition for us to go once a year. Well, it was until last year. We hadn't made plans to go to Canton yet and Andrea had left her daily planner in my car. Jeremy and I were driving and I was like "Oooh!! Andrea left her planner in the car! We can keep track of her. Let's see what she's doing today, shall we? I opened it up and Bam: "Sunday: First Monday with T.C." WHAAAAAAAA??!!! Oh man. You better believe I gave her the ol' what for. Anyhow, I forgave (but clearly didn't forget) and we restarted our tradition this year.

Embarrassing office moment.

I always answer the phone "Good afternoon, Hanover. This is Amy," (or "Good morning..."-- guh.) I just answered the phone and I could hardly talk b/c I needed to clear my throat. All that came out was "Good aft" and even that was hard to understand. So I cleared my throat and tried to talk fast b/c this person was still waiting for me to answer the phone so I said "Good afternoon" then I forgot what I was supposed to say! So, I ended up saying: "Good afternoon, this is Amy. How are you?" Ha. I felt like an idiot. Luckily it was some guy that wasn't even paying attention to what I said. I know this because he didn't tell me how he was.

You punch in at 8:30 every morning, except you punch in at 7:30 following a business holiday, unless it's a Monday, then you punch in at 8 o'clock. Punch in late and they dock you. Incoming articles get a voucher, outgoing articles provide a voucher. Move any article without a voucher and they dock you. Letter size a green voucher, oversize a yellow voucher, parcel size a maroon voucher. Wrong color voucher and they dock you! 6787049A/6. That is your employee number. It will not be repeated! Without your employee number you cannot get your paycheck. Inter-office mail is code 37, intra-office mail 37-3, outside mail is 3-37. Code it wrong and they dock you! This has been your orientation. Is there anything you do not understand, is there anything you understand only partially? If you have not been fully oriented, you must file a complaint with personnel. File a faulty complaint and they dock you!

Kif, we have a conundrum.

You know what irks me? When people call here and want to leave a message for someone-- and when I ask for their number they just say it as fast as they can, without pausing! Then you have to ask them to repeat it and they say it at the same speed, so maybe the 2nd time you catch the prefix-- THEN you have to repeat the prefix back real slowly like an idiot so maybe they'll give you the rest of the number in a normal speed. Yeah, that really gets my goat. Then you wonder if they would have been surprised if you had actually got it the first time.

"Can I have your number?"
"its9796664565"
"Ok, I'll have him call you."
"Don't you need my number?"
"Got it."
"How?"
"You told me."
"Yeah, but I was talking in super speed."

There are guys in the background of Mary Worth comics who are more important than me.

So let me tell you, today I am way hyper. I really feel like going outside and jumping in rain puddles, that is to say if there actually were any rain puddles, which there are not-- well, not yet anyway. Anyhow, I don't think I will go jump in "fake rain puddles" b/c you know, the people I work with my start to think I'm missing a few things up there, ya know? So instead I am going to try and unleash all of this bore-powered hyperactivity in this here bloggy-blog. Do you feel it? Is my intense energy making you feel bombarded? So I have a little "Nemo" on my desk that my roommate Pidge bought for me, well she's not my roommate anymore. Jeremy's my roommate, I guess, although, I've never called him that. I usually call him my "husband" or my "sboocy", whoa, of course I mean "scooby." Anyhow, she bought me this little Nemo action figure, see? Well, he's not really an action figure, now is he. I mean he's a fish. Not a very action-packed animal, ya know? Not only is he a fish, but he's a gimp fish. Dose ar da worst. So anyhow, i have this non-action-figure "Nemo" which my non-roommate gave me and I'm trying to tell you this b/c I always have him sitting on my desk. He is always just sitting there, well, laying there, looking up at me. Anyhow, I started getting bored with his orange face and his little smirk-- I felt he could use a little spicing up, ya know? So I decide, what's more exciting then pirates?! ARRGH! Nothing be funnier than pirates. So I made him a patch. So now he's The Dread Pirate Nemo. So you just witnessed what happens when a hyper girl, that is to say, one Amy Butler gets way hyper then decides to type whatever comes into her head. Don't hate me.

Meatwad get the hunnies, G.

Do you ever wake up with a song in your head, and you're not really sure how it got there? I woke up this morning with the Pinky and the Brain theme song in my head. That is pretty random seeing as how i haven't seen that show in several years. But now I have another song in my head.... and it goes a little something like this:

"MY NAME IS.......Shakezula, the mic rula, the old schoola".

The worst part is that's all I know of the song. Don't you hate that? Why can't I get a song in my head which I know all the lyrics too? Grrrrr. Maybe I should make a list of songs that have "sticking potential" and learn the lyrics. I'll start with "Do you know the way to San Jose" and work may way up from there.

Oh, that's not so much.

I found the following quote on the Dubble Bubble website (yes, my job is boring.) "One time my mom bought a tub of Dubble Bubble and I dared my sister to put a lot in her mouth. Well I did not think this would happen but she put 24 pieces in her mouth!!!!! That's what I call a lot of gum!!"

Phyphh. Amateur.

Chunkage contained.

Let me tell you something, folks. You never know how stupid you can be, until you have 28 pieces of gum in your mouth.

On Saturday night, Jeremy and I went over to my old duplex where some of our friends were hanging out. Shortly after we arrived, my friend's fiance told me that he had earlier put 10 pieces of Super Bubble gum in his mouth. With what was meant to be mere friendly banter, I said "Man, my mouth is so big, I could probably fit a lot more than 10 in there." The next thing I know, his fiance was counting his wrappers and Jeremy was counting my wrappers. See, when I agreed to this competition, I was thinking "Yeah, I can fit a bunch of gum in mouth," but I didn't really think of all the sugar that was attached. So by the time I got to about Super Bubble #20, I was feeling pretty sick. But I could not let him win. I would not let him win. Trust me. He's just one of those guys you don't want to lose to. You know the type. Anyhow, everyone was expecting me to lose b/c I looked so sick and my opponent looked like he was only on #5. Then all of a sudden he forfeited and went home because he felt so sick. At this point I was feeling pretty good about myself. I had won. Then I realized that I just won at being an idiot. After about fifteen minutes, I was feeling pretty sick as well, and had to get Jeremy to take me home. I didn't throw up, and that's the important thing... I guess.

Also writes on fax and carbonless papers.

Well, it's been a while since I last blogged, and for that I'm sorry. I know that my blogs are the very reason you get on the internet. To quote the lovely Jean Hagen: "If we bring a little joy into your humdrum lives, it makes us feel as though our hard work ain't been in vain for nothin'."

You know what's not fun? Work. It's especially not fun when you have to spend hours highlighting various lines on 60 different papers. See, that's the life of a secretary. You spend countless hours on those jobs that are so annoying that no one in their right mind would want to do. I was working at A&M once and I had this job where I had to send out about 3,000 surveys. The first thing I had to do was NUMBER the surveys. Then I would have to make labels for all of those surveys. Then I would have to stuff envelopes with the surveys and letters. Then I would have to go through and seal all of the envelopes. Actually, looking back on that job, highlighting 60 papers isn't so bad. In fact, it's fun. I guess you could say it's the "highlight" of my day. Wocka, wocka. (I had to do it, Jeremy.)

"Sendin' out an S.O.S."

Haha. That's what my boss was walking around singing yesterday. Oh man, he's cute. Cute in a hickish, big ol' teddy bear kind of way. He's the one that when I first started working here wanted me to update his Rolodex. When he brought it to me, it was this large round Rolodex-- that he had made eyes, a nose and a mouth for using file labels. He calls him "Rolo." If you can't see the adorableness in that then... I pity you.

Friday is the most exciting day of the week for me. You'd think it would be Saturday but you would be wrong, wouldn't you? Friday brings the glorious hope of the weekend. Ah yes, the weekend.

Voltaire? Hair?

Welcome to Hello Please, where a clever thought makes a good blog, and a stupid thought makes an even better blog.

I can't believe I didn't tell you about my grasshopper incident. I don't care what you've experienced: There's nothing scarier than a grasshopper down your shirt. Jeremy and I were at Trent and Sara's and I felt something-- it kind of tickled. I thought it was a string from my blouse and I looked down my shirt-- and there he was- a little grasshopper, looking up at me all innocent like. I started squealing as quietly as possible (because Sara and Gus were sleeping) and then threw my shirt off as fast as I could. It's bad enough when a grasshopper jumps on your leg-- or he's in your car and you're afraid he's gonna jump on you-- but jumping down your shirt? That's a wee bit personal. Well, he's dead now.

Man, I was so tired during my shower this morning, that I forgot to put conditioner in my hair! I didn't realize it until I was brushing my hair-- and I couldn't brush it. Much too tangly. Anyhow, my hair don't look so great today. Maybe I can get it right tomorrow morning. Aren't you glad you read this?

It's 9:08 and I am falling asleep at work! Must....get...caffeine.

Mmm....raw chicken.

For all that is good and holy, do not eat at the Sonic in Lindale, Texas. I had quite a horrific experience there yesterday. "Perhaps you would like to hear the tale?"

Jeremy and I were hanging out with Sara and Gus in their new house in Lindale. I had this really nasty headache-- so Sara sweetly offered to go get us some food. I told her to get me a grilled chicken sandwich. When she got back, I looked at the chicken first b/c I have had a few not so good grilled chicken sandwiches from Sonic- and sure enough it was this yucky looking shriveled up piece of chicken. I took a bite and couldn't even chew it. I was frustrated-- and Jeremy offered to take it back for me. Jeremy said "what do you want?" And I said "I don't care-- anything but grilled chicken." So, sweet little Jeremy goes back to Sonic and orders me a chicken strip wrap. I was excited about this b/c it wasn't grilled and it looked really good. I take a bite, and before chewing that bite, I looked down at my wrap--- and part of the chicken WAS STILL RAW! Oh, man. Even talking about it makes me feel sick. I spat the chicken out and then rinsed my mouth out with listerine. By this time, I was not feeling so hungry-- so I drove back to Sonic to get some RESTITUTION. I go in and say "I need to speak with the manager"-- and the girl points to this guy who is on the phone. This guy looks like the absolute last person I would want making my food. He just looked like a slob. So I recount the whole chicken nightmare to him and in a tone without the slightest hint of remorse he says to me "Oh, I'm sorry. I can get you something else. What do you want?" So I said "Um... I don't want anything. I just bought three meals from you and I had to come back twice. Isn't there anyway you can give me my money back?" He must not have realized how annoyed I was b/c he tried give me money back for just the chicken sandwich (which is only like $3 something) and then he got back on the phone with someone else. Arrrghh! So I waited for him to get off the phone-- and I was like "this is all your giving me back?! That chicken was RAW! I could have gotten really sick and you're just giving me $3.00 back?" And then he said that his manager was out of town so he couldn't do more than that, but then told me if I came back on Monday, I could talk to his manager. I was like "well, I'm from out of town." And he ends up saying the most he can do is give me some dessert! Oh man. That was the absolute worst customer service I have ever come in contact with. I would have been a lot less hacked if he had at least felt bad! But he didn't care in the least. I am going to try to call or write to Sonic's customer service-- maybe they'll give me some restitution. As for what I ended up eating for supper-- I got something from Taco Bell. Something without meat.

So that is my rant. Sorry it is so long, but then again, you didn't have to read it.

BOOWHAHAHAHA!

So... today is Halloween. Do you know what that means!! "Lots and lots of candy!!" It also means it's time to watch my three favorite Halloween movies: Nightmare Before Christmas, Garfield Halloween, and of course, It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown! If you haven't seen these three, go watch them. Now. Some people don't like Nightmare Before Christmas-- "well, I think it ROCKS." If you don't like it the first time you see it, watch it again. And if you still don't like it, call me and I'll watch it with you to point out how much it ROCKS. However, you may get a little annoyed with me, as that is the one movie I have to quote the whole way through.

Turn, turn, turn.

Well, i went to Sara's baby shower this weekend, and yes, I want to have a baby more than ever-- but I am trying to remember that there "is a time for everything, and a season for every purpose under heaven." Yes. I shall keep repeating that to myself.

Speaking of babies, have you seen those new 3D sonograms? They're crazy. I saw Sara's this weekend and it's just amazing. I mean, you can see sweet little Gus Jr.'s sweet little face-- and Sara said when they were watching the ultrasound, they could see the baby making faces and everything. What an exciting time to be alive.

A thought.

I was just typing Andrea an email-- and I signed it "eternally your sister." Then I thought of a cool way for mothers to "sign-off" when writing their children. Observe:

"Dear Son,

I hope this letter finds you and finds you well (and then there'd be something in there about hope being a good thing, yada yada.)

(Then...wait for it...)

Maternally yours,

Mom. "

Man, I feel very proud of this idea. Feel free to use on your present and, or future kids. I know I will. I mean, I won't use it on your kids, just mine. But just my future kids. But that's not to say I presently have kids.....oh, nevermind. This blog didn't have much promise in the first place.

We don't need no stinkin' batteries.

I went to Toys R Us yesterday (where's the backward R on this keyboard?) Yeah, I went to get presents for Sara and Gus Jr. Anyhoo, I don't think it was such a wise idea for me to go. Looking at all of those cute little baby outfits-- geez. I almost picked out some stuff for future "Butlets." Yipes. It's ok, though. Jeremy slapped some sense into me when I got home. "You just keep taking your pills, little lady." (He didn't really slap me.)

Ok, but that wasn't what I wanted to tell you about my trip to Toy's R Us (There's not a backward R on this keyboard.) When I was checking out the lady goes "would you like to get some batteries with this?" I started thinking "did I get something that requires batteries?" Then I realized I hadn't and I said "um, no." And THEN she said "would you like to pre-order Nemo" (Is that what the "cool" people call it?) and I was like "uh......no." This could have gone on for quite a while, because as you may know, Toys R Us (Why isn't there a backward R on this computer?!) has a lot of products in their store-- luckily I cut her off there with a "May I have a gift receipt?" Nice. She was a strange bird. I should have thought something was up with her when I asked her how she was doing and she replied "Bright-eyed and bushy tailed." Who says that? Honestly. A battery pusher. That's who.

Snooze.

As you all know, I am a pretty heavy sleeper. Well for about a month now, I have been having the hardest time getting out of bed. I don't know if it's b/c I see Jeremy sleeping there and I'm jealous, or what. For the past month or so, this has been my routine for work-day mornings: Wake up, take shower (or don't take shower,) get dressed (or don't get dressed-- haha, no, I'm pretty good about wearing clothes to work.) Then I lay back down in bed and set the cell phone to wake me up about five minutes before I need to leave. What in the world? I never did this when I lived by myself. I don't know why I do it, but I do. I didn't do it this morning so maybe I'm moving on.

Maroon and White, White, White.

Just wanted to let you all know that Jenna got accepted into A&M yesterday! Not exactly a surprise or anything. I don't think any of us doubted she would get in, but that doesn't mean we can't celebrate. So here's to Jenna. (Here, here!)

"Combines the thrills of an extreme outdoor activity with the satisfaction of a well pressed shirt."

It's pretty rare that I am in a creative/witty mood while I'm at work. Sometimes I feel like sitting at a desk and staring at a computer for eight hours drains me of my creative energy. Even now as I am sitting here, I am trying to think of something interesting to write about in my blog, but alas, I can't think of a thing. Nothing. Well, I did write three sentences on my lack of creativity. That's gotta count for something. Right? RIGHT? Here's something. Earlier, I bit the inside of my mouth while I was eating. How does this happen? How long have I been eating things? About twenty-one years or so? And yet I still bite my lip just from chewing on a wee little skittle. "Wee little skittle" is a cute thing to say. So is "mittens." Mittens are just all around cute, though. You put mittens on kittens and you've got something.

I've decided to keep track of random/funny things I hear throughout the day. Yep. The other day my boss said something really weird (but hilarious to me) and I can't remember what it is. Anyhow, I decided it would be fun to write those things down before I forget. Then, after I have collected enough, I will share them with you. Yes. I would do that for you.

Can't trust that day.

Well. It's Monday... again. I don't really care much for Mondays. Mondays always slap you in the face and say "You were having a nice weekend? TOO BAD! Because it's over now, sucker." Nope, don't like 'em. It's 8:45 and I'm ready to go home.

By the way, Jinx, I too fell into the nerd trap a while ago and was sorted into Gryffindor house. What has become of us?

"You can puke fire. You can throw hot death. You can resist wind. You have a song in your heart. You have spikes running down your back. You can throw force bolts. "

And apparently my name is "Foopuff."

http://pizza.sandwich.net/poke/pokecgi.cgi

"I never knew I could feel like this. Like I've never seen the sky."

Five moths ago today, I was getting married. Ha. Five months, not moths. I can hardly believe it has been five months. That's almost half a year! (You noticed that too?) Yep. I'd like to sit here and tell you all of the highlights of being married, but I'm not going to. I'll just say this: I dated Jeremy five years before we got married-- and those five years, they've got nothin' on these past five months. Before I was with my best friend some of the time, and now I'm with my best friend all of the time. There's nothing better.

Jeremy and I are going to see Intolerable Cruelty with some friends of ours tonight. Jeremy was pointing out how strange it is that we are seeing a movie about divorce on our five month "anniversary" (if you can call it that) when on the day after we got married we saw "Down with love." Oh, the irony.

Crystal the Python.

I was sitting at my desk earlier and a lizard was slowly darting (ha) across the office floor. Man, I thought I was afraid of lizards. I told Fran to come in here-- and she started screaming "Wes!!! Terry!! Somebody kill this thing!!!" It was pretty funny b/c the lizard was only about 3 inches long, not to mention that it was drugged from the insecticide they sprayed this morning. We started talking about it and we got on the topic of Gena's pet snake. It's name is "Crystal." Isn't that nice? She was just telling me some of the pleasantries of having a snake, and all I have to say: "yuck" and "why can't they find a less cute animal to feed snakes?" I don't relish the idea of a five foot snake wrapping it's self around a cute little white mouse and squeezing it till it passes out or dies-- and then swallowing it. It just tears me up inside.

Man, all that talk about eating mice has made me hungry. Ooh. 12:00. Almost time for me to go home and eat with Jeremy. Sweet.

3:16.....3:17.......HURRY UP CLOCK!

I think that the longest part of a work day is that between 3 o'clock and 5. I am sitting at work, feeling very tired b/c of the lack of work I have, and the clock is torturing me. You know it is bad when you look at the clock 3 times while it is still on the same number. I swear I got about 6 looks in on 3:20. That's gotta be a record.

Anyhow, I don't feel very much like typing a blog, but I thought that it might help keep me stay awake. Here's hoping.

Man, Anna. If you are reading this... You have the biggest tease of an answering machine message. The first thing you say is: Hello (or is it hi?)-- and it has this strong hint of recognition in it, so that EVERY single time I call, I think "Yay! she's there and she's happy that I called." But this isn't so. So Anna, if you're out there, give my poor heart a break. For those of you who aren't Anna, your answering machine message is fine. Or is it?

"Good morning, Hanover. This is Amy."

Gus Jr. is the exciting news today. Sara and Gus just found out they're having a boy! Congrats, guys! WHOOOHOOOOO!

They kept me pretty busy yesterday, so I didn't have to make shapes out of paper clips. Hold on... I'll try one real quick....hmmm. That business is harder than it sounds. I think when I have more time I will try to make paper clip replica of the Eiffel Tower! Sweet. I'll let you know how it goes.

There is a lady in my office that reminds me of Anna Nicole Smith. Anyhow, her name is Gena and this morning she says, and I quote: "If you're not doing anything later, I have some no-brainer stuff you can work on. It' s real simple." Thank you. The last think I'd want to do is actually use my mind at work. Dang, Gena.

Do you want to know a little bit about my work place? I shall tell you a few highlights.

1. There are a bunch of "good ol'" boys working here, one whose name is "Bullet."
2. There is a sign in the office that reads "If a**holes could fly, this place would be an airport."
3. I'm pretty sure none of the guys know my name. I usually answer to: "Hun," "Sugar"(or shoog), and my all time favorite is "Little Lady."
4. There is a picture up in the office of a girl wearing a really short shirt with really short black leather shorts.
5. Nary has a work day passed without me hearing the "F bomb" dropped many times throughout the day (this is an office, mind you.)

So that's a little insight into my world. I hope my description doesn't give off the impression that I don't enjoy my work. Au Contraire. Even though the men swear, like to ogle girls in short shorts, and can't remember my name, I like them. There is something about this overly laid back environment that I've grown to love, and I really can't imagine going back to the world of business suits and panty hose. That's for the birds. (Are you also imagining a bird wearing a business suit and panty hose?)

So, this is my first real blog. I'm sure it's the same for other blog virgins-- I'm a little nervous. I've been thinking about what to type for several minutes and I've come to this conclusion: Every person who will read this loves me enough to overlook anything I write that may be perceived as "cheesy", "gay" or just down right stupid. So I've decided that I'm going to try not to take this blog thing too seriously. After all... you don't have to read it.

Jinx, thanks for spending as much time with us as you did this weekend. Your visits are more important to us than you probably know-- and even though your invitation is always open, I will try to "invite" you more often. Oh yeah. For the record: Jenna tried to pay for her meal.

Thank you for visiting Hello Please. If work is this boring tomorrow, I will have to resort to making shapes out of paper clips.

Plastic pearls?? Whaaaat????