hideous?

The other day I looked at this blog on a computer at my work...and the color scheme was just awful! I don't know what is up with the color balance or whatever on that monitor, but the background was this disgusting yellow. Yuck. And the letters on the heading were all crowded together so they obscured my troll drawing.

Is that how the blog looks on other people's computers? On mine, the background is a nice taupe-ey beige background with dark browny-red letters. And the heading doesn't cover the troll...

Trolls in the Workplace

So on Friday we had a staff meeting, which means all the administrative staff at the Wright get together and have cake. Well, and we also discussed the new Diversity Committee.

But that's not really what I am writing about...do you ever find yourself just blurting something out that is maybe a little inappropriate? And then afterwards, you are not quite sure how inappropriate it was, or if anyone even noticed? And then you think you are a complete troll, unfit for normal human society?

So there has been some sort of kerfluffle about Richard Gere smooching a Bollywood queen or something...and the Wright librarian brings up the subject as we're all sitting around and waiting for the meeting to begin. And I swear it just slipped out...I just blurted something about why would the Bollywood peeps be upset, at least there were no gerbils involved...

And we moved on to other subjects, and I forgot all about it until the weekend, and then I started to worry that my co-workers were horribly offended that I mentioned the gerbil thing...even though they probably don't know about the gerbil thing (or does everyone know about the gerbil thing?)

I mean, it's not as though I described the gerbil thing at the staff meeting...

BTW, I do not think it's true. A person would have to be truly reprehensible to do that to a gerbil, and I don't think Richard Gere is reprehensible (though admittedly I don't know him all that well.)

Spent Monday morning in agony thinking I would get fired for saying gerbil. Got uptight. Then got over it. Love Mondays.

Exciting weekend

Hi! So here it is, in a nutshell:
nap, breakfast, walk dog, nap, nap, lunch, walk dog, bbq w friends and I drank some beer...
Sunday was more like nap, walk dog, can't do laundry because the neighbors are using the machine, pick up house, tea w Karin, geocache, feet are cold, dinner w mom.

Tahitian Hip Hop

So I got some new workout videos recently, and among them are The Tahitian Cardio Island Girl Dance Fitness Workout, as well as Tahitian Hip Hop. The teacher, Kili, is somewhat bizarre, but entertaining nonetheless.

I actually haven't tried the Hip Hop one yet because I am still trying to get the hang of the Tahitian hip thing. Since I don't have the moves totally down yet, it's not as much of a workout as I need, so I have been doing Island Girl for 20 mins or so and then switching to my Hip Hop Cardio DVD with the skittering bug lady.

Cleaning Troll (Not)

I had intended to do a spring cleaning today and yet somehow I still haven't started. Perhaps I could do it tomorrow before I leave for work?

It's not as though I've been too busy; here's my day so far:
Woke up, walked dog. Ate breakfast. Blogged.
Went back to bed.
Neighbor's kid came over, we worked out to my Island Girl video until he got bored and left.

Took a shower.
Took another nap. Justified this by telling myself that I am getting over a cold, and spring cleaning is overrated anyway.

Got up because neighbor's baby was crying. Went next door, the baby saw my giant boobs and instantly stopped crying. Held baby for a while.
Jason left with the kids, so I went home and apathetically played my uke.

And now I am drinking strong tea in hopes that the caffeine will motivate me, while blogging despite the fact that I really have nothing to say.

Troll Taxes

Spent Saturday day (prior to fab dip party) doing my taxes. That is, I spent 20 minutes doing my taxes and they were done-until Rhys called to remind me that this is a community property state and so I had to include his earnings for the first part of the year when we were still living together.

Argh.

Had to write a check to the IRS instead of getting a refund & now I am BROKE until the 1st of May. Guess I should have waited to buy that lingerie set!! (It's worth it though)

I mailed my taxes off with a postage stamp depicting Batman in a surly mood.

Dip!

Went to a fabulous dip gathering at Karin's last night--it was a dip potluck for Karin's bday. Yay, dip! I brought a vat of guacamole.

My favorite: the spinach dip on bagel chips. Mmm!

Building a Better Mousetrap

Stayed home today, which made my cold feel better!

Then I went up the street to Abigail's and spent waaaaay too much money on some lovely French lingerie.

Now I really feel better! (though I believe my checkbook is feeling a few pangs) Can I just say here how nice it was to find a pretty bra in my size? Usually once you get past a 36C the bras become these utilitarian things in beige with lots of wide elastic straps. I always think of English WWII matrons wearing them dutifully so the boys overseas can have silk for their parachutes.

When I run out of patriotic WWII imagery, I just feel as though the hideous elastic beige bras are some sort of punishment for being busty. But no more! Simone Perele has changed my life. But next time perhaps I'll buy online and save some dough...

I got this set...but in this color.

tiki tiki tiki

Found a store today that has a whole tiki section, with lots of tiki mugs & other accoutremont. I don't remember the name of it, but it's on Bancroft above Tele in Berkeley. The Goth biker chick who worked there had her dimples pierced. That's a new one on me. Does anyone know about this piercing? Through both her cheeks. Yowsa.

In other news, I have a cold. AGAIN. This is the second day and I am praying to all the gods out there that it stays mild and goes away quickly.

Yet Another Work Clothing Trauma

I understand the theory of stylish dressing-really! but sometimes the practice still eludes me and I unconsciously revert back to my hippie roots. Not that hippies aren't stylish. Just not my stylish.

So I have this great shawl-sweater-poncho garment which is very attractive on me, it is dark red and very soft (also it snags on everything, but that's another story.) I also have this skirt from J Jill; it is a longish a-line denim skirt with red and gold patchwork on part of one side. It has some hippie aspects to it but is appropriate for the office when worn with a more formal top (as compared to a see through Indian batik camisole with little mirrors sewn on, for example.)

If you haven't guessed this yet, I wore them both together on Thursday. It was a very cute outfit! But I didn't register how hippie like it was until I went to the restroom at work and realized that I looked as if Stevie Nicks had dressed me.

Very frightening; I was self-conscious the rest of the day AND I had the song "Stand Back" running through my head, which is especially bad because I don't know the lyrics so inside my head I was MUMBLING.

I was going to post a pic of Stevie Nicks looking just like I did on Thursday, but I found this one of her kissing a Catahoula Leopard Hound (Katrina rescue dog-did you know that Catahoulas are the Louisiana state dog?) and had to put it up.

PS for those of you who want to ask what is wrong with dressing like a hippie, I must admit: There is nothing wrong with that at all. For other people. But I'm done!

Troll Roots: Finding Your Inner Troll

I find myself musing tonight on my original motivations in starting this blog; it seems I have strayed from my roots, my intentions.

I wanted to express the trollness of it all, that crabby and quirky beast that lurks in us all (especially me). And to show that trolls are not really all bad, just mostly bad and endowed with many base emotions & desires and few tools for acting on those emotions & desires without irritating the hell out of the other trolls.

Have I done that? I can't say that I really have, it seems that mostly I've bitched about pantyhose, planned out new outfits, and rambled aimlessly on about almost whatever comes into my mind (luckily for you, I decline to share the other whatevers in my mind).

Have I been able to show the humanity in trolls, and the trolls in humanity, and the misery that ensues when one refuses to acknowledge one's inner troll?

Some of you may be wondering why I am even bothering to ponder the roots of this blog, so I'll go ahead and admit that today I discovered...

Did I mention what a nerd I am? OK: do a search for "hill troll" on Google...and this blog is the eleventh hit. I feel like Steve Martin did in The Jerk when his name got published in the phone book (for those of you who don't remember, this is before he discovered his "special purpose" and after he learned to distinguish shit from Shinola).

Weekend!!

Weekend, weekend, weekend. So many things to do! Like sleeping. And drinking tikis. And reading my email. And being oblique.

Gotta go floss. Bye!

My All-Seeing Eye

LEG, something tells me that you are looking at my blog right now. So I just want to say thanks for coming over tonite, I had a great time!

And never forget that Sept 9 is International Talk Like a Pirate Day!

One more thing

And I also want to add, since I have had two gin-n-oj's, that I am very disappointed that no-one commented on my Rachael Ray entry!! I worked so hard, and got that pic with the red colander and everything! Sob!

The Unbearable Awkwardness of Being

So I am on the hunt for a therapist. Since my boss is a psychologist, I asked him for some referrals!

Though a friend suggested I could just cadge some free therapy by simply asking him vague what-if questions like, "What if this girl broke up with this guy, what would be the best way to deal with it," or, "This person I know has a phobia. What's the first thing she should do? Uh huh? And then what's the next thing? Yeah. Yeah. OK, so what should my friend do next? Here, wait, hold that thought, I'm taking some notes for my friend."

But seriously. So my next step was to call some headshrinkers. Here's how my voicemail went yesterday:

Uh, hi, I'm Hilltroll? And I'm, like, looking for a therapist. Ummmmmmmmmmnnnnn...yeah. Dr N gave me your name and um, yeah. Ok. Can you um call me um back? Uhhhhhh....

The most awkward ever. The only way it could have been worse is if I had thrown in some sort of non-sequitur such as "Oh, hang on, the peanut is up my nose."

When she called back it was even more awkward, and I won't bother to go into the details. Suffice to say that I was not my usual debonair self.

The Winnah!!!!

Tiffky Doofy will soon receive a gorgeous, highly collectable poster of Jean Claude the Vampire with his hands down his pants. She guessed correctly that Anita's favorite animal is the penguin!

I will send this poster to her shortly at the same address I used to send her christmas card last year. Uh, you did get a card from me, right?

I got this image at www.funnypics4all.com. Look out for popups, though.

Anita Blake Graphic Novel Contest!!!

Did y'all know that Laurell K. Hamilton's infamously badly-written yet strangely alluring and addictive vampire series is now a monthly comic book? It's all very exciting; I found out when I was chatting with the comic book store lady, Paula, and then I was ON FIRE I thought it was so cool--though not as cool as it would be if, say, Lois McMaster Bujold's Vorkosigan novels were put in graphic form (which is actually being done now in France, and I wonder if an English translation will follow quickly)

So I was babbling on about how fun Hamilton's novels are even though they are so badly badly written and I noticed that Paula kept referring to her as Laurell; so then I was totally embarrassed since it seems Paula knows Hamilton personally and here I am badmouthing her writing...I thought Hamilton lived in Missouri or something, how was I to guess? Or maybe everyone calls her Laurell, just like everyone calls Mercedes Lackey "Misty." Just goes to show, it's never a good idea to badmouth a person, even if you mean it nicely and there seems to be no way it could get back to them...

But what can I say? The writing is dreadful, and she has the most bizarre pacing I have ever encountered. I keep waiting for her to come out with a 500 page novel where the entire plot takes place in Anita's bathroom while she takes an epic 15-minute piss. If you have read her books, the previous sentence will possibly make sense to you.

So since they are promoting the series, I scored on a POSTER of that hot master vampire, Jean Claude. AND I am willing to send it to the first person who can tell me:

What is Anita's favorite animal?!?

Porn on the Bus

This afternoon I was riding the bus home and reading a book, which today happened to be "One Kiss from You" by Christina Dodd; the sun was out, the bus was packed with a variety of folks, and after some time reading I happened upon a steamy scene.

Which of course all romance novels have, but it's sorta wierd reading one on the bus because there's all these people around and I start to wonder if someone is reading over my shoulder or do they suspect that I am reading porn? Does it show on my face?

And then I just got distracted by the passengers around me, so I put the book away since I was getting embarrassed anyhow. There was this immensely fat guy sitting across from me, reading a Louis L'Amour novel, and he was wearing a really grimy red baseball cap with a brass pin in the shape of an alligator. Every once in a while he would tell his kid sitting next to him to be quiet--I'm not sure why, since the kid wasn't really making any noise. He was about 7 or 8, and he had a small toy revolver that made a loud click when you pull the trigger, and he kept shooting himself over and over and over: in the side of the head, in the heart, the eye, the neck. I think he might have been bored. Dead bored.

The Burden of Fame

I'm really worried about Rachael Ray.

I don't know what's holding her together, what with the cooking show, her own magazine, constant magazine & television appearances, and of all things, a talk show. I don't think there's enough speed in the world to keep someone going through all that (and never mind the Nat Enq stuff about her cheating hubby.)

The other day I was at my best friend's house, and over the piercing, clarion voice of her four-year-old we were sorta watching Rachael Ray on the food channel. And I have to say, she seems much more stressed out than she did a couple of years ago. The whole time she never looked at the camera, she was too rushed! Poor thing. She was cooking this pizza, it's like a pizza salad where (and I'm guessing a little here because it's hard to pay attention with little Jacob sitting on the couch with me, relentlessly kicking my leg) she chopped up a LOT of herbs & greens (like arugula & stuff) and put it on this pizza right when it came out of the oven, so the heat wilted the greens a little. And the pizza wasn't super cheesy, so it would be more light.

In fact, that is similar to how I make my own signature margherita pizza: as soon as the cheese and tomato/garlic-sauced pizza comes out of the oven, I fling generous handfuls of chiffonadededed basil on top so it sort of relaxes onto the cheese with a soft sigh: Aahhh. Then I eat it all.

To restate my concern, I am worried about Rachael Ray. And I haven't even mentioned all those fucking Triscuit and Wheat Thin boxes with her face on there looking kinda scary.

But that pizza still looked pretty darn good; almost as good as my pizza.

OK, gotta go floss. Bye!

Revisiting the Thrill of Twill

Just so y'all know, the really expensive & beautiful silk half slip I bought at Nordstrom's to combat the creeping twill skirt...didn't work. My solution: no pantyhose, ever, with that skirt; instead I am waering knee socks and tall boots (and it looks super cute).