Sammy’s 8th Annual Holiday Message

I have the day off today so I can’t be arsed to write anything. I’d much rather read the latest murder mystery I am into or watch the daytime TV I never otherwise get a chance to watch (“About $100, Bob.”). Nope, writing these posts is work I would rather do at work. But Sammy did want me to make sure you all know he wishes you all a happy holiday season.

Feast of the Virgin, Year VII

Sorry for the crappy pic, I was halfway through that bottle before I remembered to take it!

The Obligatory American Idol Post

What a blah season. Wow, the pretty, straight, (mostly) white boy won. The only surprise about the top three was that the bland white girl lost to someone of color. (Although I think it might be better for Madison’s emotional health that she did not win because you just know that someone has already told her that she needs to lose weight.) For the life of me I cannot see why the judges creamed their jeans over Alejandro. I mean, yeah, if this was East Los Angeles Coffee Shop Idol, then he would have won it hands down. And was it just me or was his hometown visit a little… sparse?

But still loving the pared-down format. The judges were as toothless as ever. I miss Simon. And I am sure his mother loves him, but I fucking hate Bobby Bones. Did anyone believe that Ryan was actually sick that one time he hosted? And I know I pose some version of this threat every year, but I really mean this one: if he takes over from Ryan, I am never going to watch this show again. 

And something else that is always in these types of posts: bring back Brian Dunkleman.

Year in Review – 2018 Edition

This is a long post. Not because my 2018 was particularly interesting, but because I am still sticking to my One October pact of not writing anything negative. But I do feel I am allowed to be a little lenient in my YIR post, so here goes.

But I will start on something positive, how’s that? Because financially, it was an interesting year. I managed to save a little; enough, in fact, to bring me back to pre-layoff figures – yes, I ended 2018 with the same dollar amount in the bank as I did 2013, two weeks before I was laid off. Five years to catch up, that’s not bad, considering how long I was out of work. It was not without sacrifice, however – I neglected both my health and the health of my car (yep, still no A/C). And I can’t remember the last time I bought new underwear. And I never go anywhere or do anything (aside: I recently filled in one of those mental health questionnaires and one of the questions was, Have you lost interest in doing things? How can I answer that? It is hard to lose interest in doing things when you don’t do things in the first place!). I suspect 2019 might be a little more expensive, however – I’ll probably have to move and I think this is the year for Sammy’s rabies shots. And I really should consider going back on cholesterol medication. And I’d really like to visit Denver.

Other financial highlights of 2018 include spending $232.55 at Target, $181.50 at the Post Office, and $191.42 at the dollar store.

Romantically, it has been another virgin year, but some of my former paramours had an interesting time. Prettiest Boy in the World moved his GF and her kids in with him. Not quite sure how I feel about that. And on the Facebook page of one of my Layover Larrys (i.e., guys I’d hook up with if they were in town. Oh, this post is about this exact Larry!) there was a pic of him and some chick celebrating their anniversary. OK, I am not naive – I know he wasn’t saving himself for me, but what was interesting about this is that this is the first time EVER that he has allowed one of his chicks to post a pic on Facebook. There they were, in some Italian restaurant, with a plate of cheesecake with Happy Anniversary written on it in jam or whatever. Gag. But what makes this, um, interesting? Ironic? A deeper stab through my heart? - was that they celebrated this anniversary in Las Vegas. In a restaurant less than two miles away from where I live. Talk about kicking me whilst I am down, right? (But what is extra funny is that the first hundred or so times I looked at the post, it never registered that they were in Las Vegas (I do not like Italian food so I am not familiar with names of Italian restaurants in town). It was only on a holiday weekend when I was not in the best of moods (duh) and I had been imbibing a little (a lot) and I was reading through the comments and one of them was “We love that place, we always go there when we visit Las Vegas.” FML.)

And another former conquest died. Younger than me. Such a shock. I am not sure what the cause of death was (although I have a suspicion). I have the email address of a friend of his and I have written an email asking him for details but I have yet to send it. I think because if I do, it will make it official, and I want to go on pretending for a while that he is still around. He was one of those guys that I always thought I would hook up again with at some point. And, oh, wow, how we met – not a meet cute at all, but a meet hot. We worked in the same building and one time we were alone in the elevator and got chatting and I saw that he had pressed 6 on the panel and so I asked him what he did on the sixth floor. He told me and just then we arrived on the sixth floor. He looked at the panel, stepped out of the elevator, turned around and asked, “And what do you do on the eighth floor?” And I, sultry AF, with a coquettish raise of an eyebrow, said “Everything” just as the elevator doors closed. It was steamy!

What else? Gained zero point two pounds. Got six pedicures. Stayed at Mandalay Bay on a work retreat, three months after the shooting. That affected me more than I thought it would. Got a jury duty summons but didn’t have to go in at all (I was dreading another repeat of what happened last time - see here). Saw zero movies at the theater. There’s supposed to be a new movie theater opening up in my driving comfort zone soon, so hopefully that will change.

Speaking of driving, drum roll please, this year’s mileage was… 1,306. Sad.

(Actual on-Sammy's-life before and after pics!)

What else? Oh, yeah, Craig’s List got rid of their personal ads section, because of some new sex-trafficking law that could have held them responsible if anything bad happened between people who met through their site. Ugh. Back when I was inclined to date, I used Craig’s List all the time. In fact there was a time when all my dates started through Craig’s List. I guess if I had any libido left I’d be upset but, as it is, well, meh.

Oh, and the P.F. Chang’s across the street from me closed. This was super depressing, because it had the earliest happy hour start time. On the days when I did happy hour (usually the day before a major holiday) I would start there and time it so that I could get at least two (maybe three) drinks in and get the check taken care of in time to walk to the Bahama Breeze just down the street a little in time for their happy hour to start. Now I am forced to go to the local casino for their happy hour which is pretty pathetic (only about three or four choices). That is extra bad because I am sometimes temped to sit down and play a few hands of Blackjack or a few rounds of Craps and, OK, OK, last time I did this I did win $50 but still, stupid P. F. Chang’s.

OK, so not too negative. 

And I will end this YIR with a highlight of my year. Thanks to a very generous birthday present from PLL, I got my DNA analyzed. This was cool on so many levels, not the least of which is that it confirmed the fact that I always knew I was Jewish:

Sammy's 7th Annual Holiday Message

I have a cold so I cannot be arsed to write anything but this post needs to be published today because it always is. Hopefully the Year In Review post will be more detailed. Happy hols, all.

Feast of the Virgin, Year VI

 

Yep, had to post this. No action again. Six years now. I truly do not think it is ever going to happen again. But you want to know something weird? I am OK with that. There is so much else to worry about (which I am not posting about because of my “Positive Posts Only!” goal) that finding someone desperate enough to want to do the dance with no pants with me is way down my list of things to do, tucked somewhere between “Research what type of uniform Walmart greeters wear because I am never going to be able to afford to retire” and “Start saving up to buy the Walmart greeters uniform.”

Of course this is about American Idol

I tried not to watch it, I really did. But there is something about this show... It is my Brokeback Mountain, I just cannot quit it. But I decided early on that I was not going to blog about it, despite a desperate need to write about something, because a quick perusal of previous posts would have resulted in way too many Google searches about it - had I used the contestants’ names! But no, previous posts are rife with nicknames! Apparently, I hated some poor girl with bad hair (Uni-Bang) and there was a terrible male singer who had a stutter (Stuttering Stanley) and – oh, how I am cringing at this -  there was a singer of mixed Chinese and Hispanic heritage who earned the unfortunate moniker of Kung Pao Taco (really, I am not racist, I swear).

Yeah, so, no posts, but I had to do a season-end wrap-up because, well, I don’t know how to quit it:

Luke Bryant – most useless judge EVER. On more than one occasion, when he was third to speak, he said there was nothing he could add because Lionel and Katie had said it all. One time, when he was first to go, he said he wasn’t going to comment because “no one wants to hear my voice after they’ve heard yours.” Gawd.

Even though previous seasons went on way too long, I didn’t really like this pared-down format. I think there could have been a happy medium.

And that results-the-same-night deal? Insulting to both the viewers and the contestants because they are basically admitting what everyone has known all along but chose to ignore - that this is a popularity contest and not a singing competition.

What the hell was the deal with Bobby Bones? Where did he come from and how useless was he? And what is the deal with that name? I feel as though he should be in a Saturday Night Live Halloween-themed sketch with Tom Hanks.

And the producers ought to be ashamed of themselves as far as Catie Turner is concerned. Yes, I am all for quirky chicks who do not fit into the societal norms of physical attraction (I wonder why). And haters don’t hate – you know I do not agree with what society considers physically attractive. But they only put her through (and you know 99% of who goes through is decided by the producers and not the judges) because of the publicity it would garner. No, my biggest peeve with this is the fact that she just wasn’t that good of a singer; had she been, then, yeah, I would be her biggest supporter. But she wasn’t and I think it cruel of the producers to do that to her, to give her hope because, to paraphrase The Shawshank Redemption, hope is a terrible thing, maybe even the worst of things. And had she won, would they have changed the name to Amish Idol?

Like if Adam Sanders/Ada Vox would have won would they have changed the name to Drag Queen Idol?  And what would have happened had they already decided to go with separate boy/girl teams like they have done in the past? Or maybe they did and he/she came along and they scrapped that idea.

And then there is Maddie. Oh, how I loved her from the start. So much so, that I would have been OK with her not winning, because that way she could record what she wants. And even though I did not like Carrie Underwood II Gabby Barrett (despite her being from the ‘burgh) I would have been OK with her winning. Caleb too.  But Maddie, I have not liked a contestant so much since Kelly Clarkson. I hope she has a career and doesn’t fade away like Uni-Bang (well, actually, she might be a huge star right now because I don’t remember her name!).

Year in Review – 2017 Edition

Easily the highlight of my year was my California trip. Newbies can check it out here. But the rest of 2017 was not without its moments:

I got to try on a Super Bowl ring (not one of the many thousands the Steelers have, unfortunately, but still):

 

Put 1,395 miles on my car. And I thought the 1,662 I put on last year was sad. This lower number is a direct result of the car troubles I had in the summer and have not been able to afford to fix. And yes, here are actual swear-on-Sammy’s-life pictures of my before and after mileage:

 

 

Lost 5.6 pounds. I really need to do something about my weight. I am going to give Meatless Mondays a try and have vowed to give up paying for red meat and pizza. Originally it was to give up eating those two things but I got a free birthday burger from some place that sends me emails and there’s going to be pizza at work next week, so being the natural lawyer I am (and a cheap ass) the loophole is that I am not going to PURCHASE red meat or pizza. This isn’t going to be that much of a hardship, my red meat consumption is maybe once a week and pizza once a month but baby steps.

But perhaps it is my mental health issues that I should work upon. I truly think I might be getting early onset dementia. Exhibit one:

Went to a concert (Billy Idol). What makes this even more noteworthy, it was at Mandalay Bay not three weeks after the shooting. Yep, still not over - and frankly don't know if I ever will be - all that ensued in my life after that massacre.

Got six pedicures.

Saw no movies in the theater. I think this is the first time in a while I have had a zero movie year. Driving issues, of course.

Spent $223.30 at the post office, $275.72 at Target and $187.94 at the dollar store.

And in a rarity, finally got a picture taken of me that I like and am willing to share:

 

 

 

Sammy's 6th Annual Holiday Message

 

Stupid Walgreens. They don't do the stupid frames for photos anymore. So I had to either rely on my (non-existent) Photoshop skills or bite the bullet and not be so cheap and use one of those online photo card services. But they do not provide a proof and I forgot to take one of the finished cards to work to scan it there, so instead you have the before and after version of Sammy's holiday greeting picture this year - above is the original pic and below is a pic of Sammy with the final product (slightly edited to protect the identity of the innocent (ha!)). Sorry, got a rotten cold, tripping balls on Mucinez, should wait 'til I am back at work tomorrow, but this post has to go out on December 17, because it always does. And I know some of you might be thinking big whup, it is a cat in a box, stop the presses, but no, Sammy rarely gets in boxes, rarely does anything other cats do, so this was indeed a moment meant to be captured for posterity.

 

 

 

 

Positively not negative

This is not a positive post, per se, despite my previous proclamation, but it is a post about not doing something negative, which is a positive thing, right?

 

Dr. Dave contacted me on a free (i.e., low quality) dating website when I lived in Denver. He was divorced (yeah, right), lived in southern California, and was going to be in town on business and liked fat chicks. In the two months or so before his visit, he was very eager - daily emails, lots of phone calls (most with happy endings), even a one-sided video chat (I did not have a very modern computer at the time). I knew there was no future in it, but after his visit he cut me off completely, which hurt, because of the amount of energy he had put into courting me (wasted, because he had me at "I like fat chicks"). I did a little catfishing (and this was before there was a word for it) but never revealed it was me - “Cheryl” just stopped replying to his emails until he lost interest (probably because he had met “Gina” who too eventually stopped contacting him!). Anyway…

 

Alan I met on Craig’s List (don’t bother with the lectures, I (rarely) go on there anymore) shortly after I moved to Las Vegas. He too lived in southern California (same town as Dr. Dave, actually!) and was married (at least he had the balls not to lie about that) and also liked fat chicks (only blonde ones though - he liked his brunettes thin).  We hung out a lot and it is he, in fact, who is responsible for my having sex in a Strip hotel for the very first time! But when the relationship, such as it was, started to go south, the catfishing was pretty intense. “Ashley”, a petite, brown-haired pharmaceutical sales rep, told him a week before they were due to meet that she had gotten back together with her ex-boyfriend. “Sarah” stood him up, at a restaurant he had previously taken me to. Her one-word reply to the email he sent afterwards, asking if he had gotten the time and place right, was “Yes.” And then she cancelled that email account. But “Emily” oh, I think he fell hard for her. Coincidentally, she had such similar tastes as he did (seriously, would that not be a red flag to you? A complete stranger just happens to like the same obscure genre of music you’re into? And who happens to be trying to cut meat out of her diet when you happen to be a vegetarian?). Anyway…

 

I read somewhere that if you have just two fairly substantial pieces of information about someone it is possible in this day and age to find them. Surprisingly, they had both given me their real first names (well, first Alan went by David. That one really upset Emily because she told him growing up she had had a huge crush on David Cassidy. He sounded positively distraught in his subsequent email when he told her his real name was Alan (told you she got to him)). Dr. Dave, I knew his medical specialty and town and the initial of his last name (can’t remember how I knew that or why I did not know his full last name). A few clicks and – whoomp, there it is! – his full name and place of work. Alan, it was a little harder, but a perusal of a certain East Coast university’s student newspaper’s website, which just happened to list alums who served on the paper, only two of whom happened to be named Alan (ruled out the first one when I saw his Facebook page), resulted in me tracking down his full name and company address. Anyway…

 

So over the past few years they’ve gotten holiday cards with no return address on the envelope and a note, handwritten but not signed. The cards have had postmarks of Florida and southern California (not their home towns, however), thanks to friends who live there and who don’t mind enabling me and my shenanigans, and Las Vegas. Not Colorado, however, because I think that might be a big clue as to the sender’s identity. I am OK with Las Vegas because Dr. Dave was before I moved here and Alan had several conquests here. Part of me thinks they know it is me, but then I remember Alan was clueless when Emily mentioned she was a fan of some singer he happened to like too). Anyway…

So, in my quest to not add to the negativity that is in the world, I have decided to not send them cards this year. Baby steps, right? Or whatever I need to tell myself?!!!