You were always on my mind.

After a long, and often-times bitter battle of wills, I have finally lost out in the war against the Cadbury Cream Egg in my purse.

I purchased the delicious candy a few days ago when I noticed Walgreen’s was selling the treat (usually reserved for the Easter months) 2 for 1; usually I would just get one for myself; but thinking someone in my play would want to eat the other, I went for the deal. Alas-no one took the bait-and for the past few days that egg has floated from pocket to purse, its shiny exterior daring me to indulge- a welcomed promise of the chocolaty-goodness that waited me inside.

I would be lying if I said the chocolate has been speaking to me. That would be ridiculous-as we all know chocolate can’t talk. However, the sugary cream-filling inside the chocolate has just been FULL of conversational topics. From the state of the union to how delicious it would taste with a giant glass of cold milk-that Cadbury Cream has not shut up.

All week long I have been good-ignoring the chocolate and cream, instead choosing to concentrate on more pressing issues like the war in Iraq or how I want to pimp out my MySpace profile; however, while sitting at my desk this morning a fever began to creep back into my head-the fever that can only be remedied by the type of candy made to look like a baby chicken.

Actually doing my work was all that was keeping me from ravaging my purse for the chocolate inside; and I was succeeding too, that was until Coworker E walked by my desk wearing a giant neck brace. Immediately, my concentration was ruined, and I was sent into a crazed, all-consuming wave of chocolate madness that quickly overtook my ability to reason and left me powerless to resist.

Before I had a chance to stop it, my hand jutted off in the direction of my open purse, grabbed the offending chocolate candy (where it lay haughtily at the bottom of my bag), feverishly ripped open the wrapping, and aggressively shoved the thing into my mouth.

Sigh. I have lost the battle-but the war will be mine….eh who am I kidding, I have the self-control of a five-year-old and chocolate is yummy.

Top 10.....

In light of my inability to come up with ANYTHING else to blog about, I thought today would be as good a time as any to bring together two of my very favorite past times: making top ten lists and talking about the things that scare me.

Today’s topic of terror: singers/artists often played by easy-listening/classic rock affiliates that also happen to scare me. I apologize ahead of time if any of the artists mentioned below are among your personal faves-but as you will soon see, my arguments are sound….so, without any further ado, I present:

Little Miss Westchester’s Top 10 List of Creepy Easy Listening/Classic Rock Artists.

1. James Taylor.
There is a haunting quality to his voice that makes my stomach churn. Additionally, he is fabled to be the inspiration behind Carly Simon’s hit song, “You’re So Vain.” This song makes me nervous because it is an enduring cultural mystery-and mysteries can be scary.

2. Phil Collins.
One night, when I was a little girl of around 9 or 10, my babysitter let me watch MTV with him because I was scared and could not fall asleep. No sooner had my over-active imagination began to subside, when a Genesis music video came on that featured a bunch of puppet heads….singing. To me, that video screamed “DANGER!” “DANGER!” And I have never felt truly safe since.

3. The Artist Formally Known as Prince.
On one hand, I really like “Pussy Control,” but on the other hand, Prince wore pants with little holes cut out over his ass cheeks. Now I can’t speak for everyone here, but for me, ass-less pants are never ok. Especially in yellow.

4. Olivia Newton-John.
I am sorry, but “I Honestly Love You” sucks ass! Plus, when I saw Olivia on TV the other night her face looked like it was melting under the tv lights. One too many plastic surgeries Franken-sandy. Boo.

***Begin Obvious Choice Here***
5. Michael Jackson.
Child molestation-allegations aside, that music video Michael made with Lisa Marie Presley was just nasty and wrong. That’s right, NASTY-and it made me uncomfortable in my mommy parts. Plus he has a brother named Tito.
***End Obvious Choice Here***

6. Bee Gees.
Their voices are high, which makes me jumpy. Additionally, their songs call to mind one of my other greatest fears: getting trapped in an elevator.

7. Patrick Swayze.
If you thought Patrick’s list of screen credits were limited solely to acting and seducing Jennifer Grey with his shirt off-you were sorely mistaken. No, Patrick took a turn as pop singer with her 80’s power ballad, “She’s Like the Wind.” As an impressionable young person, I thought he was talking about ghosts; and ghosts scare me. Later, Patrick went on to play a ghost, which only helped to cement my inherent fear and discomfort.

8. R. Kelly.
I don’t think anyone was fooled by Kelly’s thinly-veiled lyrical metaphor that spoke of sticking his “key” into some poor (and likely underage) girl’s “ignition.” *Shudder*

9. Jordan Knight.
Admittedly, Jordan was my favorite member of New Kids on the Block (or NKOTB for those of you who believe musicians can actually pick up street creed simply by shortening their name), but ALL of the songs he has released lately have been adult contemporary crap; and nothing is scarier, or more unsettling than an over the hill boy-bander trying to resuscitate a DOA career. The “D” in DOA stand for “dead,” by the way-but don’t get scared off, I am not done with my list yet!

And last but NOT least:

10. Kiss.
I am sure this comes of little surprise, considering vampires are one of my top three fears, and Gene Simmons looks like a vampire. Although I did see KISS live a few summers ago-the show was fun, and I made a sweet “KISS THIS” t-shirt for the concert. Ah the foibles of youth.

So that’s it, that’s my list. Here are some of the scary singers that would have made this list, had it been a Top 20 are: David Caruso(not a singer-but scary), Meatloaf (good as a food, bad as a rock star), Don Johnson, Rod Stewart, Clay Aiken, Five for Fighting, Mariah Carey, Dionne Warwick, that guy who sang, “I Wear my Sunglasses at Night,” and Gloria Estefan (but only because of her song “The Rhythm is Going to Get You”-I don’t like to think about things chasing me).

Dream a little dream 3

Last night I had a dream that I was at my high school reunion...and Neil Patrick Harris was there.

Neil Patrick Harris didn't go to my high school.

On another note, I would just like to give a special shout-out to Fucking Early, Jazzy A, and Foxy Sunshine for coming up to Milwaukee this weekend. You guys made my day!

Happy Happy Happy

Few things make me happier than the Muppets and Weezer....and compliments....and Rick Moranis in Space Balls...and bracelets...and...well you get the idea. But seriously, I just purchased the best necklace ever, and I can't wait to wear it out on the streets of Milwaukee when I receive it in 6 to 8 business days.

Jealous much?

Overheard in the Office 4

Rachel California: Washington D.C. is on the….East Coast. And Washington State is on the WEST coast…..right?!

Little Miss Westchester: .......Right. Haven't we covered this before! Look at a map for God's sakes.

Westchester the Co-ed

Earlier this week, as I was unloading my car following a looong weekend of play-related activity, I noticed a disheveled-looking man in his late-50’s do a double take at the end of my drive way, before stopping to wait for me there .

The man, although not particularly threatening-looking, was clearly homeless and seemed to be having trouble standing. As I got closer to him, I also began to detect the distinctive potpourri of booze wafting through the crisp night air. It was pungent, memorable, and probably Vodka.

“Excuse me mam’,” he said, as his eyes rolled lazily back into his head.

“Yeeeessssssssssss?” I replied cautiously.

Eight minutes later, the man concluded his tale or woe that had carefully explained how he was a college student from Madison, Wisconsin whose car had ran out of gas, and could I please help him with some gas money so he could get back to school in time for his Monday classes…….

Thinking back, had the street not been very dark and mostly deserted at the time, and had I not been carrying my weight in laundry, the exhaustion from the weekend, and the fear that he might have tried to just steal my purse, I probably would have given him some money. Not because I believed his line about being a college student. No, at 50 years old, the man was a far cry from the traditional image of college males as I remembered them-although I suppose he had the drunk part down right.

Either way, I lied and told him I was also a “poor college student,” and could not help. I figured, I might as well go along with the story-I liked college and remember it fondly. To my credit, I did point out the gas station down the road and encouraged him to call AAA!

Blades of Glory

THIS movie is going to KICK ASS. Who's coming to see it with me!

CLICK HERE to watch the trailer for Blades of Glory...

(Thanks to Fucking Early for the tip!)

Expendability

Yesterday, after posting about some of the zombie-related dreams I’ve been having lately, I immediately began to worry that my Super Secret-dream revelations may have opened the door for possible confusion about the Little Miss Westchester you have come to know, hopefully love, and ultimately think about when you should be working. That being said, I hope you will here me out.

The dreams in question centered around catastrophic zombie plagues that (in the scope of one REM cycle) managed to wipe out most of the world’s population, leaving only myself and a few other survivors to repopulate the Earth and return humans to their proper place at the top of the food chain (this of course is relying upon my dream-assumption that the zombies, thinking the world was void of any additional food sources, would wander into the world’s oceans, never to be seen again).

Make no mistake, fair-reader, if a zombie plague was to descend upon the world, systematically wiping out humanity as we know it, I would definitely NOT be among the survivors. Far from it! More likely I would be one of the first to go-due to my powerlessness to hide without giggling, my incapacity to wield any effective weapon, and (as I recently discovered) my inability to outrun even a soda can as is lazily rolls down a hill.

No, unlike dream-Westchester (who apparently looks like Hilary Duff and is simply helpless against the fabled and intoxicating charms of chest hair) I am no hero-and lack all of the necessary life-skills one would need to survive a plague of flesh-eating zombies.

My ONLY hope is, that in the event of a REAL zombie outbreak, that guy from Five for Fighting gets it before me. My reasons for this are two-fold. One: because I think even I could take that guy in a cage match. And Two: beacuse I think a world without Five for Fighting (even a world infested with zombies) would be a better place to be.

Note: If you are interested in learning more about zombies and the havoc they can cause on an eco-system, I would HIGHLY recommend checking out books like I Am Legend (by Richard Matheson) or more importantly, The Zombie Survival Guide (by Max Brooks) from your local library.

Answering the age-old question....

What would a spider do if you gave it drugs....

CLICK HERE to watch the video...it really is VERY scientific.

Dream a little dream 2

Last night I had a dream that I was Hilary Duff. However, unlike the REAL Hilary Duff (who probably lives on a gold-encrusted cloud above Hollywood), I was still living in my small Milwaukee apartment.

I don’t remember how the whole dream began, but I started paying attention when Good Charlotte’s Joel Madden came over to try and get back together with me, dream-Hilary Duff (gossip watchers will probably remember that the two recently broke up after a two-year relationship, while everyone else will remember that they still don’t give two shits about Hilary Duff and Joel Madden).

ANYWAY, in my dream Joel Madden had come over to try and win me, dream-Hilary Duff back; and, to his estimation the conversation MUST have been going well, because no sooner had I laughed at one of his jokes that he started unbuttoning his shirt and trying to seduce me by revealing a VERY hairy chest.

At that point I woke up.

I will admit that at first appraisal, this could be construed by onlookers as having been a VERY strange dream; however, perhaps you will not think it is so strange when you learn that already this week, I have had two dreams that featured zombie out breaks in Milwaukee with me as one of the lone survivors. In both instances I was either running for my life or engaging in hand to hand combat with the undead….

Maybe now you will not think that Hilary Duff-dream was so strange after all.

Happy Birthday Moody St. Clair!

This birthday tribute seemed like a good idea when I created it yesterday afternoon...that was until Moody told me she no longer liked Nip/Tuck on the phone last night. Either way, many happy birthday wishes to my old pal Moody St. Clair!


The gangs all here!

Ask a Ninja....or die.

Contrary to popular belief, I do not know everything.

In fact, there are a surprisingly GREAT number of things that I know little to nothing about; for example, math queries that go beyond basic addition and subtraction…can’t help you there! Simple directions in and around the Milwaukee area….nope-don’t ask me, I will unwittingly send you to Canada. And don’t even THINK of trying to get a clear answer out of me as to how a person could defend themselves in the event that they are attacked by a bear or a similarly vicious wilderness beast. No sir, I haven't the foggiest.

Another such topic that has eluded me up until now, has been the ever-mysterious world of the ninja. Indeed the world of the ninja is shrouded in mystery. Mystery, and later, bitter disillusionment. Luckily there is a professional ninja who has dedicated his life to answering questions about the ninja-world. Questions like, "what does a ninja smell like?" Answer: Regret. Or "how do ninjas raise their children?" Answer: From the dead.

CLICK HERE to check out the officially hilarious “Ask a Ninja” website.

Mondays are funny too...ok maybe not.

It's Monday and I am definitely not feeling the office today. I mean, to say that I am EVER really "feeling" the office would be a tremendous overstatement; however, there are some days that go by faster than others.

This weekend I spent the bulk of the available daylight hours in a basement. Not to fear, I was not the weekend captive of some crazed kidnapper/Super Secret Fan; on the contrary, I was in that basement of my own free will, rehearsing for the latest play that I have been cast in.

Now if you have read this blog at all, it should come as NO surprise to you to learn that I am of a dramatic persuasion. Frankly, I feel that it would be something of an injustice for me to try and keep my theatrical talents from the rest of the world/the greater Milwaukee area. I have been given a gift-and I must share this gift through the magic of community theatre and, at times, with other drivers who catch me singing in my car.

Anyway, as the sun set late Sunday afternoon, I finally did manage to get out of that basement; ironically, only to become a prisoner of another variety. A prisoner of literature. Indeed, after years of successful self-control, I finally succumbed to pop culture/peer pressure and began reading the first of the Harry Potter series.

At the recommendation of my cast mates I started reading Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone; and frankly, I have quickly become a slave to the thick literary web J.K. Rowling has woven for me. As you read this, I am essentially counting down the minutes until I can pick the book up again and learn more about the kooky exploits of a pre-teenage boy and his gangly friends.

To quote one of my favorite cinematic characters, “This is my party, happy fucking New Year.”

350 Days until Christmas.

Kitties are funny.

Spotlight on Style

If you are like me, then you are probably stylish and cool all of the time; on the flip side, if you are not like me, then you probably need a little help (I.E. My mother still wears something called a "Dickie" on a regular basis. What the hell is a "Dickie" anyway, and why would my mother want one hanging around her neck?!).

In my mother's defense, it is hard to keep up with the trends and products out there these days-which is where sites like "Style Hive" come in. So, for those of you who are in constant search for the next best thing, this might a good place to start....you know, after you have finished perusing the marvels on this fine site.

CLICK HERE to check, check, check it out.

New Year, New Secret Rantings!

Happy New Year Everybody! Sorry for the lack of posts, my only excuse is that I am very lazy....AND good looking, and the combination of both has kept me from my Super Secret World.

Some updates:

1. Coworker B has restarted her Christmas Countdown in 2007-but had been very lazy about keeping it up to date. Currently the count reads "365 Days Until Christmas," and serves as a constant reminder to that old debate that asks: “What is more depressing, a Christmas Countdown loooooong before Christmas, OR a Christmas Countdown looooooon before Christmas that is ALSO not up to date?” The world may never know.

2. Someone FINALLY took the hint, and bought me one the “Gift Suggestions” I had made in a previous posting. Yes, Little Miss Westchester is now the proud owner of her very own Dwight Schrute bobblehead.

3. The Westchester family went bowling a few days after Chrismas, and were lucky enough to be assigned to the lane next to a “Ninja” and “J.B.” It is unknown whether or not those were the bowler’s real names; however, I would like to err on the side of YES!

4. I spent this New Year’s Eve with Moody St. Clair, Security Steve, Junior Carter and some other people (who don’t have special names on this blog) at Lake Front Brewery. Good times were had by all, and I made the very important resolution to try to be nicer to people-unless it is someone I hate, in which case, all bets are off.

2007 HERE WE COME!

(UNFORTUNATELY, no squirrels were harmed in the making of this poster.)