Tuesday is nearly over

I have a friend at work (we worked together at the agency before we jumped ship and went corporate) who is the queen of malapropisms and mixed metaphors. She has been making me laugh for years and throws it right back at me when I say something wrong, which also cracks me up.

This morning, she was hanging out in my cube telling me about her trip to Target last night with her six-year-old son. She bought his Halloween costume and was amazed at how much little kids' outfits cost now.

"So what's his costume?" I asked.

"Bubba Fett," she replied. After a very long pause, she asked, "What are you laughing at?"

"(Her name)!," I finally managed to choke out between gasps, "It's Boba Fett! Unless, of course, you buy the outfit and slap a trucker hat and maybe a sticker of Calvin peeing on a racecar number on it somewhere." And I could barely catch my breath and stop laughing.

"You're gonna write about that, aren't you?" she asked. "Yes!," I responded, still unable to sit up straight. "But I promise not to use your name."

I laughed all day. Then I went to my Tuesday night Board Meeting after work. The weather here is glorious and cool (finally!), so we sat on the back patio at our downtown bar. I love that space, as it's blocked between buildings, so if you don't look up too high, it's like being in a real city.

The usual suspects and I started talking about concerts we'd seen in our youth. I told the story about seeing Prince on his suprise greatest hits show in 1997 from the front row. I was with my two best friends, a boy and a girl. Boy best friend reached his hand up and Prince slapped it, then girl grabbed boy's hand and put it on her double-D boob. Though they were total buddies and nothing more, I'm pretty sure boy friend forgot all about Prince for a second or two.

"I was really into fish when I met Prince," one of the usual suspects replied. (I am really tempted to stop telling this story and land on that sentence, as it's brilliantly random and absurd.) Then he went on to explain that he was really into fish and aquariums in high school, so he got a job in a pet store in a mall in Asheville, N.C. It's my friend's story to tell and I was frankly too dumbstruck to take in all the details, but apparently, during the Purple Rain Tour, as they were making their way from Charlotte to Atlanta, Apolonia (yes!) decided she wanted a dog.

So they stopped in Asheville to get a dog and went to the pet store where my friend worked. Prince's security detail notified the mall and blocked off the entrances for an hour, unbeknownst to my friend. My then-teenaged friend, in his Pets Plus golf shirt, found himself in the presence of Prince and Apolonia.

"What did he look like?," I squealed! "I wasn't paying much attention to him," he replied, "I was 15 and all I could do was keep from fainting over Apolonia. She was so hot!"

"Oh, come on, tell me what Prince looked like!"

"He looked like a guy in love with a girl," my friend said. They bought two puppies and left.

And I swooned. I'm still swooning to "If I Was Your Girlfriend..."

Feeling blue?

Are you sad, irritable, tired or restless? Feeling unsure about the market or worried about the election and the future of 'merica? Are you just having a case of the Mondays?

Fear not, gentle reader, Dr. Leigh Ann feels your pain and has the solution. Melt those icky feelings away by watching this video, heretofore known as The Cutest Thing You Will Ever See In Your Entire Life. *

Have a happy, happy week.
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* We here at TGFS apologize for our current inability to embed video, as our IT staff is en route to a job in Mexico and won't be back until Friday.

Cheap filler

I am so overwhelmingly consumed with Facebook (big-ups to my friends, especially the ones whose real names and faces I know after being your blogspot fan for so long), that I'm having a hard time coming up with anything new to say. I've got a newspaper deadline looming, and I usually just cut stories from this blog, but I can't, and don't even care to, think about it.

So here are some of my greatest hits, packaged into a single post. Been touring these stories on various mediums for a while now, but the lead singer is original, lawn seats are cheap, and you won't have to plan your bathroom/concession stand breaks around, "Here's one from our new album!"

Thank you and good night. (Wait for it, the encore's coming...)

Every generation has an eccentric. I'm waiting for the torch to be passed to me.

Chicks in race cars are hot.

The corporate world can suck out your soul if you aren't careful.

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Off to blow kisses on Facebook. Srsly Diff Girl and Manager Mom, I don't know when you sleep!

Leigh Ann Frink is currently eating crow...

I joined Facebook 49 hours ago after swearing up, down and sideways that sort of nonsense was for kids.

I really did hold out as long as I could. Friends I respect kept talking about it and how much fun it was, but I was firm in my stance: "I have no interest in such frivolity." I had, after all, joined Myspace two years ago on the recommendation of my then-14-year-old stepson and found it to be way too much work.

But then Mr. Sweetypants joined Facebook and gleefully announced several times a day for the past couple of weeks that old school friends from Northampton (Engerlund) had found him. He was having a blast reconnecting with them.

So I joined, mostly to promote the column. Within 24 hours, I'd reconnected with 17 old friends and gotten freelance offers. And I found myself rushing home from work the next day, blowing past my husband and logging on. For the first time in my tenure at the place that pays me, I am greatful that the Web nanny blocks certain sites, as I could easily spend my entire day on Facebook at this point.

I know this obsession, like all my past hobbies and obsessions (night clubs, painting, knitting, yoga, online dating) will pass. But for now, Facebook is hitting my instant gratification button like smack. Why spend an evening blogging when you can spend 15 seconds typing, "(your name) is wondering what to have for dinner," and get 10 immediate e-mails?

Yes, youngsters, I realize I am very late to this party and everybody is Twittering now, but that is so insipid. I will never....

Palin Rocks!!!

I don't understand what all the fuss is about. I love Palin! Have since I was 12 years old and would stay up late, when the show would come on PBS at 11, fiddling with the rabbit ears on the black and white TV in my bedroom to pick up the UHS channel.

I mean seriously, what's not to love about Palin?

Palin understands religion:

Chaplain: Let us praise God.

[The congregation rises.]

Chaplain: O Lord…

Congregation: O Lord…

Chaplain: … ooh, You are so big…

Congregation: … ooh, You are so big…

Chaplain: … so absolutely huge.

Congregation: … so absolutely huge.

Chaplain: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.

Congregation: Gosh, we're all really impressed down here, I can tell You.

Chaplain: Forgive us, O Lord, for this, our dreadful toadying, and…

Congregation: … and barefaced flattery.

Chaplain: But You're so strong and, well, just so… super.

Congregation: Fantastic!

Chaplain: Amen.

Congregation: Amen.

Palin understands democracy:

Dennis: [interrupting] Listen, strange women lyin' in ponds distributin' swords is no basis for a system of government. Supreme executive power derives from a mandate from the masses, not from some farcical aquatic ceremony.

Palin is totally down with women's health and reproductive issues:

Hospital Administrator: And what are you doing this morning?
Obstetrician: It's a birth.
Hospital Administrator: Ah. And what sort of thing is that?
Dr. Spenser: Well, that's where we take a new baby out of a lady's tummy.
Hospital Administrator: Wonderful what we can do nowdays.

Palin knows the party:

Wanda: I'm sorry about my brother, Ken. I know he's insensitive. He's had a hard life. Dad used to beat him up.
Ken: Good.

I could go on and on about how much I love Michael Palin. I've had a crush on him for 27 years. He's Oxford-educated, funny, self-deprecating and I could watch him for hours.



What's that you say? We were talking about the other famous Palin?

Oh good lord, scratch all that then.

UPDATE: It's been a week since I wrote that, and today I stumbled on Michael Palin for President. Click here for a better list of reasons than I came up with! Palin '08!!!

Gotta keep on rockin'

I saw the Jukebox Hero Baby clip today. Several times. Laughing out loud and disturbing my cube mates over and over, I'm sure.

If you haven't seen it, watch it now. I'll wait.


Jukebox Hero Baby - Click here for the most popular videos


I was at work when I saw it, and of course the song got stuck in my head. No lie: I was walking down the hall in the conservative, corporate place that pays me on my way to the ladies' when I totally positioned my hands into an air guitar and hit the lick that comes after "he heard one guitar."

Fortunately, nobody saw my inner permed, 80s girl bust out.

(Gotta give a shout out to my buddy Diff Girl; she's the queen of 80s music references.)

And I was all mellow...

Decided to switch gears from self-deprecating to nostalgic with this month's Raleigh News and Observer column.

Here's to Schlitz, Sundrop, motor oil and salt water.