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Office Space - Special Edition with Flair (Full Screen Edition)
By Jennifer Aniston, Ron Livingston, Diedrich Bader, Joe Bays, Josh Bond, Gary Cole, Todd Duffey, Jennifer Jane Emerson, David Herman, John C. McGinley, Kinna McInroe, Michael McShane, Ajay Naidu, Greg Pitts (II), Richard Riehle, Stephen Root, Linda Wakeman, Alexandra Wentworth, Paul Willson
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In the somewhat edited words of the Geto Boys...
Real gangstas don't flex none, cause real gangstas know they got 'em. | | |
| THESE ARE A FEW OF MY FAVORITE THINGS
Favorite Sound: My dad's laugh
Favorite Smell: The scent of rain
Favorite Feeling: Wind in my hair
Favorite Taste: Sweet or spicy. Appropriate, don't you think?
Favorite Emotion: I don't know if the English language has a word for this kind of emotion but I love laughter in the midst of a lovers' quarrel. I guess it's a romantic catharsis, but it better than just a release of tension... it's more specific than that. I don't know, but I love that feeling.
Favorite Color: As Steven Tyler said, "Pink is my favorite color." Apparently it's like red but not quite.
Favorite Words: Tenacious, Perspicacious, Discombobulated, Impervious, Osculate, Impetuous, Vivacious, Fabulous... I like words that end in "ous" apparently-ous. | | |
| Another IM moment with Katie and Amelia... (phone numbers have been changed to protect my cell phone bill)
Amelia's automatic response: I just got a new cell phone and lost everyone's number. So call if you want back in my phone book.
Katie: 817.555.1234, and that better go on your speed dial.
Amelia: Number 8 baby!
Katie: You mean there are 7 people in this world more important to you than me!?!
Amelia: No, #1 is my voice mail and then my mom and my sister.
Katie: Ok. Now that I think it about, 8 is a pretty sexy number. We share the same curves.
Amelia: LOL
Katie: Here's my speed dial count down: #1 is my voice mail, #3 is my sister, #4 is my mom, you're #5, and #2 is to THE DARE. | | |
| This morning at 8:10 I jumped on my train and headed into downtown for work. As is usually the case, it was crowded. Several men were standing near the entrance to the cart and holding onto the railing. I took my place with them while quickly scanning the train for an open seat. There were none. This was of course no problem for me. I'm young. God has given me strong legs, a good back, and pretty darn good balance. I really don't mind standing on my way in, and in truth, I expect it.
At the following stop, a woman got off the train leaving her seat vacant. The older woman who had been beside her immediately looked at me and pointed to the seat in an anxious manner. It was almost startling. I'm mean, when a seat opens up, I'm not scared to take it, but usually I wait a second to see if anyone else needs to sit down. This woman wasn't having that. Oh no. So I took a few steps forward and joined her. As I sat down she said, "There are no gentlemen anymore."
Immediately, my mind said, "Whoa." I felt like that was a gross generalization, and I was a little uncomfortable responding to her statement with so many men standing around us. I think I smiled politely, but I honestly don't remember what my outward reaction was. I was too preoccupied with my own inner monologue.
"There are no gentlemen anymore." There are no gentlemen anymore? Gentlemen? I was a little surprised by my initial evidence to refute the statement. When I heard the word "gentlemen" echo in my mind, the first person I thought of was Justin Clark. I thought it was peculiar that he was the first person I thought of out of all the guys I know, but upon further examination I realized why.
This last summer I was hanging out with my sister, Justin, Marissa, and another girl friend of theirs' (sorry, I don't remember). We were hanging out in downtown Ft. Worth just enjoying the atmosphere and each others' company. We stopped for a bite to eat at Bennigan's or some place like that. Two words... Monte Cristo.... two more words... yummy and sinful. When the check came, Justin picked it up. Being a progressive woman, I tried to take it from the waiter to cover my share of the ticket, but the waiter wouldn't even let me look at it. I was a little put out in all honesty and then the nameless friend said, "Let him be a gentleman." GOO! That was a complete sucker punch moment for me. "Let him be a gentleman." I couldn't get it out of my head. It was a break through moment for me, the kind that we talked about in my psych classes for so long. The ones that blind side you. Wow, I have a hard time letting a man be a man. Yuck. To this day that sentence puts a bad taste in my mouth. At that point I made a decision. I was going to let those willing to be gentlemen, be gentlemen. So why did I think of Justin? Simple. 1. He IS a gentleman. 2. His name has become synonymous with a lesson that was very important for me to learn. That's why.
Then later today, while on my train ride home, I was reminded of the events of the morning. More evidence to prove the contrary came to mind. For instance, when getting off the train, men usually allow me and other women to de-board first. The same is true on the elevator in my building. And today when I was running to catch the train, a young man a few steps in front of me made sure he held the door once he got on the train so that it wouldn't close before I got there. I mean, there are gentlemen everywhere! Sure these may sound like little insignificant gestures that involve the DART system and elevators and are therefore completely unromantic, but take a second look. I mean, Clark Gable and Cary Grant are dead. That time has come and gone. And no one rides horses in downtown Dallas (except for the occasional cop). The "white knight upon a fiery steed" dream isn't incredibly realistic for this day in age. Maybe our heroes are businessmen upon rickety railcars. If you look for chivalry, you'll find it. And if you don't see it, you're either a naive woman who thinks that Romeo and Juliet is a beautiful love story or you're probably a progressive woman not letting a man be a man.... either way, you might want to work on that. | | |
| WHY WE'RE SOULMATES... AND SOLEMATES
VALENTINE'S DAY 2006
Amelia: I don't know what you think, but I think this whole Valentine's Day thing is crap. Maybe this is just the opinion of a bitter, cynical, single gal on the only day out of the year that glorifies relationships and how great (or crappy) they are. If that's the case, then it's just my opinion, but I'm sure that there are plenty of people out there who would agree that the human depiction of "love" (unless referring to God) really doesn't measure up to, say..........chocolate chip cookies. Yeah, I'd rather have cookies.
Katie: Yeah, I got my Carmel Delights right here... a special Valentine's gift from Girl Scouts of America... maybe that's where we girls developed our dependence on cookies, Girl Scouts! That would explain a lot. Not only are we escaping the current loneliness of our relationship status with food, but we are also using these cookies to take us back to our childhood... back when life was easy, when our biggest concern was getting our patches and making sure mom brought a good snack for the troop meeting, back when it was not only acceptable to not have a boyfriend but encouraged. Boys had cooties, and we all wanted to be smart independent women like Jessie Spano. But times have changed. The immunity of the cootie shot has worn off. Hell, Jessie Spano became a showgirl. What's a girl to do, but reach for the frozen Thin Mints.
Amelia: inspirational........ absolutely inspirational
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